"But what do you want me to do?" asked the other, with a troubled
look.
"Why," said Samuel, "we must save her. We must find her some work that
will not kill her."
"But, Samuel!" protested the other. "There are so many in her
position--and how can I help it?"
"But, doctor! She can't stand it!"
"I know, my boy. It is a terrible thing to think of. Still, I can't
undertake to find work for everyone."
"But she will die!" cried the boy. "Truly, it is killing her! And,
doctor, she has never had a chance in all her life! Only think--how
would you feel if Ethel had to work in a cotton mill?"
There was a pause. "I honestly can't see--" began the bewildered
clergyman.
"It will be quite easy for you to help her," put in the boy; "because,
you see, Mr. Wygant belongs to your church!"
"But what has that to do with it?"
"Why--it's Mr. Wygant's mill that she works in."
"Yes," said the doctor. "But--I---"
"Surely," exclaimed Samuel, "you don't mean that he wouldn't want to
know about it!"
"Ahem!" said the other; and again there was a pause.
It was broken by Ethel, who had come in and was listening to the
conversation. "Papa!" she exclaimed, "wouldn't Miss Gladys be the one
to ask?"
Samuel gave a start. "The very thing!" he said.
And Dr. Vince, after pondering for a moment, admitted that it might be
a good idea.
"You will come to church with me to-morrow," said Ethel.
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