Page:Wilson - The Boss of Little Arcady (1905).djvu/144

 Heaven had denied them both the gift of reticence.

"Yes—I've been telling Mr. Denney—I feel that there is a work here for me," she began briskly. "I felt it strongly when I perused the columns of the newspaper which Mr. Denney was thoughtful enough to send me."

Solon's eyes uneasily sought the cabbage-like flowers in the faded carpet of the room.

"And I feel it more strongly now that I have ventured among you," continued the lady, glowing upon us both.

"I have long suspected that it was a regrettable waste of energy to send missionaries into heathen parts of the globe when there remain so many unenlightened corners in our own land. It almost seems now as if I had been guided here. It is true that my husband has gone, but that shall not distress me. Rodney is a drifter—I may say a natural-born drifter, and I cannot undertake to follow him. I shall remain here. I have been guided—"determination gleamed in her gray-green eyes,—"I shall remain here and teach these poor people to make something of themselves."

Solon drew a long breath. My own echoed it. Hereupon little Roscoe broke into a high-pitched recitative.

"We are now in the great boundless West, a land of rough but kind-hearted and worthy folk, and abounding with instructive sights and scenes which are well calculated—"