put her warm hands on my cold ones. "You're young, but for over
thirty years I have been looking life in the face, and I've learned a
lot that nothing but time can teach. One of the things is that we
all ain't made in the same mold, and our minds and hearts ain't any
more alike than our bodies. Every day we live we have to get in a
new supply of patience and politeness to keep from hitting out, at
times, at folks who don't see our way. Some people ain't ever going
to look at things they don't want to see, or to listen to what they
don't want to hear, but there ain't as many people like that as you
think. There's many a woman in this world to-day that God is proud
of; in the Homes and places what they're the head of, and on their
boards and things they are learning that all women are their kin, and
after a while they'll make other women understand. I'll see Etta
to-morrow, and if she will come I will bring her to see you. But
until Mr. Harrie is gone she won't come--won't leave him. Sometimes
it seems a pity he didn't die. Go to bed, Miss Dandridge! you are
all tired out."

CHAPTER XXVII

For two weeks Etta Blake refused to come to Mrs. Mundy's, refused to
see the latter when she went to see her, to see me when I went; but
yesterday she came to both of us. Ten days ago Harrie was taken to
Selwyn's home and is now practically well. Mr. Guard tells me he is
going away; going West.

I have seen Selwyn but twice since he learned where Harrie was found,
and then not alone. Both times some one was here and he stayed but a
short while. He has bitten dust of late and even with me he is incased
in a reserve that is impenetrable. There has been no chance to mention
Harrie's name had he wished to do so. I do not know that he will ever
mention it again. Selwyn is the sort of person who rarely speaks of
painful or disgraceful things.

I was in my sitting-room when Mrs. Mundy came up with Etta. As the
latter stood in the doorway prayer sprang in my heart that I would not
shrink, but the heritage of the ages was upon me, and for a half-minute
I could only think of her as one is taught to think--as a depraved,
polluted creature, hardly human, and then I saw she was a suffering,
sinful child, and I took her hands in mine and led her to the fire.

To see clearly, see without confusion, and with no blinding of
sentimental sympathy, but as woman should see woman, I had been trying
to face life frankly for some m