When she stopped, Mrs. Montague's face was shocked and pained. "How
dreadful to think that there are such creatures as that man Jenkins in
the world. And you say that he has a wife and children. Mrs. Morris,
tell me plainly, are there many such unhappy homes in Fairport?"

Mrs. Morris hesitated for a minute, then she said, earnestly: "My dear
friend, if you could see all the wickedness, and cruelty, and vileness,
that is practised in this little town of ours in one night, you could
not rest in your bed."

Mrs. Montague looked dazed. "I did not dream that it was as bad as
that," she said. "Are we worse than other towns?"

"No; not worse, but bad enough. Over and over again the saying is true,
one-half the world does not know how the other half lives. How can all
this misery touch you? You live in your lovely house out of the town.
When you come in, you drive about, do your shopping, make calls, and go
home again. You never visit the poorer streets. The people from them
never come to you. You are rich, your people before you were rich, you
live in a state of isolation."

"But that is not right," said the lady in a wailing voice. "I have been
thinking about this matter lately. I read a great deal in the papers
about the misery of the lower classes, and I think we richer ones ought
to do something to help them. Mrs. Morris, what can I do?"

The tears came in Mrs. Morris' eyes. She looked at the little, frail
lady, and said, simply "Dear Mrs. Montague, I think the root of the
whole matter lies in this. The Lord made us all one family. We are all
brothers and sisters. The lowest woman is your sister and my sister. The