"Now tell me about your home. You say you want to make an addition, add an ell or something."

"Yes; we think by adding a wing we can double our capacity. But I have the plans of the new work, and a picture and plans of the present house."

She brought a book of views with an architect's drawings of the new hoped-for wing, and the pictures and plans of the present house.

Drusilla drew her gla.s.ses from her bag and bent over the new plans; then she turned her attention to the house now in use.

"You say this is where they are at present? Which is the rooms you use for the mothers?"

The worker pointed them out.

"We have six beds in this room, and four beds in this, and five beds in this room. In this long room we can put about twelve cots for the children that do not have to be with their mothers during the night.

This is the dining-room; this the living-room."

Drusilla caught sight of some rooms upstairs.

"What's these three rooms. Who're they for?"

"Those are for the workers who go out for the week-end."

"What do you mean by the week-end?"

"From Sat.u.r.day to Monday."

"You mean the women who work here like yourself go out there and spend Sat.u.r.day and Sunday?"

"Yes."

"But why do you need three rooms?"

"Well, you see there are a great many workers here, and they take turns, and often three or four of them go out."

"They each have a room to themselves?"

"Yes, you see they are in the noise here all the week, and they must have a place where they can rest and have quiet."

Drusilla looked at her sharply.

"What do you do with the rooms the rest of the time?"

"They are vacant."

"You don't put none of the mothers in 'em?"

"Certainly not. We could not use them if they had been occupied by the cla.s.s of people we send out."

"Why don't you double up when you go out, and not take so much room?

You could put four beds in that room and all be together and use them other rooms for mothers."

"That would be hard on our workers. They like their privacy. And then we would not like the mothers and their children so close to us.

They would disturb us and we could not get the rest we need."

Drusilla was quiet for a moment, drumming lightly on the table with her fingers.

"I don't see how you can rest or sleep at night with a cry in your ears like that I jest heard from that mother. I'd sleep on a board by the side of the fence to let her get a chance to 'put her face in the gra.s.s' as she says. How can you talk about privacy and quiet when you see such misery and unhappiness as that I jest saw? No, don't stop me--"

as she saw Mrs. Harris raise her flushed face and open her lips as if to speak--"I'm all wrought up. I'll hear that mother's cry and see her poor body bent over that table, and those babies settin' there workin' when they ought to be out playin' as long as I live. And you see them and hear them every day and yet can talk about havin' to have quiet and privacy! And you take the three best rooms in a house that's supported by people who think they are giving some poor Italian family an outin' in the country! You could all go in one room and that would mean that five or six more mothers could go; the woman we left up there could go--instead of keeping the rooms for women who have a nice place like your'n here." She looked with scorn around the cozily furnished room. "And you keep them for only one or two days a week! I can't talk, I'm all wrought up."

Drusilla sat back in her chair and fanned herself with the book of views.

The worker was aghast. She had not thought of any possible outcome except the one for which she had been planning.

"But you see, Miss Doane, when we have a wing--"

"I'd 'a' give you a wing, or two wings, or a whole batch of wings, if I hadn't seen them three rooms. How'd I know that you wouldn't take the best rooms for the rest of your workers; or perhaps your cook might need rest or privacy for a part of the week. No--" shaking her old head vigorously--"I'll build my own wings where I can watch 'em."

She rose then.

"I must be goin'. Will you send for Daphne? I want to think about what I can do for that family. I'll give her my own room if I have to, but she's goin' to the country!"

Daphne came in soon, and looked quickly at Drusilla's flushed, excited face.

"Did you have a nice time, Miss Doane? Isn't it a wonderful work?"

"Yes, I had a lovely time, and I learnt a lot. Thank you so much for your tea, Mis' Harris. I'm real glad I come."

And before the chagrined hostess could find words in which to try to rectify her mistake, Drusilla was in the motor.

Daphne looked at the angry old lady curiously.

"Weren't you interested, Miss Doane? Aren't you going to help the Settlement? They need money so badly for their summer home--"

"Now, Daphne, don't talk to me about the summer home! You know we got a big lot of things and people that always is asking me for money. I git a heap of letters every morning from preachers, and charity workers and beggars and poor people, and people who are trying to make a fool of me, and git my money. I guess there ain't a person in New York or an inst.i.tution that's got a want, but they feel that it won't do no harm for to try me."

"Why, I didn't know you were bothered. Why don't you have them all sent to Father?"

"Humph--mighty little attention they'd git. No, I go over 'em all myself, with Dr. Eaton. You didn't know he was my private advisor, did you? He's a fine young man and he's got a head on his shoulders; and him and me go over all the letters and them that he thinks that is honest, he sees, and then he tells me what he thinks we had better do. He's got sense and don't let me git foolish, because sometimes the letters or the cases is so pitiful that I can't help cryin', and generally them's the ones he finds is no good. I been visitin'

inst.i.tutions with him, orphan asylums, and rescue homes. We got a lot of new babies and their mothers comin' to the house next week; we got them from the hospitals. He's workin' out a plan for me, and now I want to talk to him about them mothers and the country. We are going by his office, as I can't wait until he comes out to-night."

Daphne flushed.

"We might take him out with us."

"That's a good idea, Daphne. You go up to his office and tell him to come down an we'll take him home. I want to talk and he can stay to dinner."

"Can't I stay too--" shyly said Daphne, slipping her hand into Drusilla's.

Drusilla looked down at her and laughed.

"No, you can't. Your father wouldn't like it, and besides if you are there the doctor won't talk sense. He'll jest set and look at you."