perhaps no one but Doctor Brown, who came to have a real affection and
respect for her, fully appreciated. Mrs. Burgoyne would tell him, when
they met in some hour of life or death, that she was "making friends."
It was quite true. She was the type of woman who cannot pass a small
child in the street. She must stop, and ask questions, decide disputes
and give advice. And through the children she won the big brothers and
sisters and fathers and mothers of Old Paloma. Even a deep-rooted
prejudice against the women of her class and their method of dealing
with the less fortunate could not prevail against her disarming,
friendly manner, her simple gown and hat, her eagerness to get the new
baby into her arms; all these told in her favor, and she became very
popular in the shabby little settlement across the bridge. She would
sit at a sewing-machine and show old Mrs. Goodspeed how to turn a
certain hem, she would prescribe barley-water and whey for the Barnes
baby, she would explain to Mrs. Ryan the French manner of cooking tough
meat, it is true; but, on the other hand, she let pale little
discouraged Mrs. Weber, of the Bakery, show her how to make a German
potato pie, and when Mrs. Ryan's mother, old Mrs. Lynch, knitted her a
shawl, with clean, thin old work-worn hands, the tears came into her
bright eyes as she accepted the gift. So it was no more than a
neighborly give-and-take after all. Mrs. Burgoyne would fall into step
beside a factory girl, walking home at sunset. "How was it today,
Nellie? Did you speak to the foreman about an opening for your sister?"
the rich, interested voice would ask. Or perhaps some factory lad would
find her facing him in a lane. "Tell me, Joe, what's all this talk of
trouble between you and the Lacy boys at the rink?"

"I'm a widow, too," she reminded poor little Mrs. Peevy, one day, "I
understand." "Do let me send you the port wine I used to take after
Ellen was born," she begged one little sickly mother, and when she
loaned George Manning four hundred dollars to finish his new house, and
get his wife and babies up from San Francisco, the transaction was made
palatable to George by her encouraging: "Everyone borrows money for
building, I assure you. I know my father did repeatedly."

When more subtle means were required, she was still equal to the
occasion. It was while Viola Peet was in the hospital for a burned
wrist that Mrs. Burgoyne made a final and effective attempt to move
poor li