With the expiration of this term in prison George's letters to me ceased for a while, to be resumed later from a prison in another State where he was working in the greenhouses and had become interested in the flowers. That gave me my chance.
In a fortunate hour I had encountered a little story by Edward Everett Hale, "How Mr. Frye Would Have Preached It," and that story had formed my ideal of loyalty to my prisoners when once they trusted me, and by this time I had won the confidence of George. Accordingly, I wrote George a Christmas letter making a direct appeal to his better nature—for I knew it was there—and I asked him to come to me on his release the following July, which he was glad to do.
Now, my mother had always been sympathetic with my interest in prisoners, and she dearly loved her flower garden, and had difficulty in finding intelligent help in the care of her flowers. She knew that George was just out of prison, and after introducing him as a man who might help her with her roses I left them together.
A few minutes later my mother came to me and reported:
"I don't like the looks of your George: he looks like a thief."
"Yes," I answered, "you know he has been a thief, and if you don't want him I'll try and get another place for him."
But the flowers were pulling at my mother's heart and she decided to give George a trial. And what a good time they both had that summer! It was beautiful to see the two together morning after morning, caring for those precious flowers as if they were babies. My mother had great charm, and George was devoted to her and proved an altogether satisfactory gardener. Unquestionably the two months that George spent with us were the happiest of his life. My mother at once forgot all her misgivings as to his honesty and came to regard him as her special ally; she well knew that he would do anything in his power to serve her.
One afternoon my mother informed me that she was going driving with the family that evening—she was always nervous about "leaving the house alone"—and that the maids were going to be out, too; "but George is going to stay in charge of the house, so everything will be all right and I shall not worry," she said with all confidence.
I smiled; but I had no misgiving, and sure enough we all went off, not even locking up the silver; while George, provided with newspapers and cigars, was left in charge.