"Sure enough!" said those girls, and they went away pleased with the addition to the circle of workers, and prepared every one to greet him as a helper.
CHAPTER XIV.
BLIND.
I SUPPOSE there was never a project that went forward on swifter wings than did this one, born of the stranger's sermon preached that night in the little neglected church at South Plains. Sometimes I am sad over the thought that he knew nothing about it. Nobody, so far as I am aware, ever took time to tell him that he was the prime mover in the entire scheme.
The numerous plans for making money made progress with the rest. Prospered, indeed, to a degree that filled the young workers with amazement—I might almost say, with awe. They grew into the feeling that Miss Benedict was right, and that God himself smiled on their scheme, and gave it the power of his approval.
As the days went by, the reading spirit in the enterprise grew almost too busy to write her daily hurried postals to her mother. These same postals were gradually filled with items that astonished and somewhat bewildered the mother and daughter who watched so eagerly for them.
"Would mamma be so kind as to call on Mr. Parkhurst, the one who was chief man at the carpet factory up there by papa's old mill, you know? Would she, on the next bright day, take the blue car line and ride up there and talk with him? The ride would do her good, and it would be such a help to the girls. They would need only a little carpeting, it was true; but if Mr. Parkhurst would be so kind as to sell to them at wholesale, factory prices, it would make a great difference with their purses, and she was sure he would be pleased to do it if mamma would ask him, because you know, mamma, he felt very grateful to papa for help years ago."
This was the substance of one postal.