“Please, ma’am. I’ve come to school,” answered a tall black boy with a bundle.
“Well, why don’t you go to the office?” Then she saw his face and hesitated. She felt again the old motherly instinct to be the first to welcome the new pupil; a luxury which, in later years, the endless push of details had denied her.
“Wait!” she cried shortly, and began to dress.
A new boy, she mused. Yes, every day they straggled in; every day came the call for more, more‚ÅÝ‚Äîthis great, growing thirst to know‚ÅÝ‚Äîto do‚ÅÝ‚Äîto be. And yet that woman had sat right here, aloof, imperturbable, listening only courteously. When Miss Smith finished, she had paused and, flicking her glove‚ÅÝ‚Äî
‚ÄúMy dear Miss Smith,‚Äù she said softly, with a tone that just escaped a drawl‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚ÄúMy dear Miss Smith, your work is interesting and your faith‚ÅÝ‚Äîmarvellous; but, frankly, I cannot make myself believe in it. You are trying to treat these funny little monkeys just as you would your own children‚ÅÝ‚Äîor even mine. It‚Äôs quite heroic, of course, but it‚Äôs sheer madness, and I do not feel I ought to encourage it. I would not mind a thousand or so to train a good cook for the Cresswells, or a clean and faithful maid for myself‚ÅÝ‚Äîfor Helene has faults‚ÅÝ‚Äîor indeed deft and tractable laboring-folk for anyone; but I‚Äôm quite through trying to turn natural servants into masters of me and mine. I‚ÅÝ‚Äîhope I‚Äôm not too blunt; I hope I make myself clear. You know, statistics show‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù
“Drat statistics!” Miss Smith had flashed impatiently. “These are folks.”
Mrs. ¬ÝVanderpool smiled indulgently. ‚ÄúTo be sure,‚Äù she murmured, ‚Äúbut what sort of folks?‚Äù