“I don't quite see that,” said the other—
“Why, sir! Isn't it just because I've been so sorry that you are willing to help me? There are so many others who have not been helped—some I know, sir, that need it far more than I do, and have deserved it more, too!”
“It seems to me, my boy, that is being too hard upon yourself—and on me. I cannot relieve all the distress in the world. I relieve what I find out about. And so I must help you. And don't you see that I wish to keep you near me, so that I can watch after your welfare? And perhaps—who knows—you can help me. The harvest is plenty, you have heard, and the laborers are few. There are many ways in which you could be of service in my church.”
“Ah, sir!” cried Samuel, overwhelmed with gratitude—“if you put it that way—”
“I put it that way most certainly,” said Dr. Vince. “You have seen a new light—you wish to live a new life. Stay here and live it in Lockmanville—there is no place in the world where it could be more needed.”
All this while the little girl had been sitting in silence drinking in the conversation. Now suddenly she rose and came to Samuel, putting her hand in his. “Please stay,” she said.
And Samuel answered, “Very well—I'll stay.”
So then they fell to discussing his future, and what Dr. Vince was going to do for him. The good doctor was inwardly more perplexed about it than he cared to let Samuel know.
“I'll ask Mr. Wygant,” he said—“perhaps he can find you a place in one of his factories.”
“Mr. Wygant?” echoed Samuel. “You mean Miss Gladys's father?”