"I know another woman, not so well off, who does her own work, as most do here; who goes to nurse any one she hears of that is sick and cannot afford to get help. She will sit up all night taking care of somebody, and then at break of the morning go home to make her own fire and get her own family's breakfast."
"But that is superb!" cried Mrs. Barclay.
"And my father," Lois went on, with a lowered voice,—"he was not very well off, but he used to keep a certain little sum for lending; to lend to anybody that might be in great need; and generally, as soon as one person paid it back another person was in want of it."
"Was it always paid back?"
"Always; except, I think, at two times. Once the man died before he could repay it. The other time it was lent to a woman, a widow; and she married again, and between the man and the woman my father never could get his money. But it was made up to him another way. He lost nothing."
"You have been in a different school from mine, Lois," said Mrs.
Barclay. "I am filled with admiration."
"You see," Lois went on, "I thought, if with no money or opportunity to speak of, one can do so much, what might be done if one had the power and the will too?"
"But in my small experience it is by no means the rule, that money lent is honestly paid back again."
"Ah," said Lois, with an irradiating smile, "but this money was lent to the Lord; I suppose that makes the difference."
"And are you bound to think well of no man but one who lives after this exalted fashion? How will you ever get married, Lois?"