an' the Lord knows there's enough other poor an' wretched people in
this town that needs lookin' after, an' I know you're doin' a good deal
for all of 'em. But this ain't a matter of poverty, Mrs. Prency; it
goes a good deal deeper than that. I'm not thinkin' about her
appearance; she's better dressed now than she ort to be, though I don't
think she shows much good taste in what she buys to put on her. But I
want to have somebody take some interest in her that'll make her change
her thoughts an' feelin's about the way she's livin' an' the kind o'
company she's keepin'."

The judge's wife looked thoughtful, and Sam contemplated her with
wistful eyes. There was a long silence. When at last Mrs. Prency spoke
she said,--

"Mr. Kimper, I think I know what you mean, but I am puzzled as to what
I can do and how I can do it. Can you suggest anything?"

"That's just the trouble, ma'am," said Sam; "I can't; I don't know how.
I've thought an' cried an' prayed about that gal more than anybody'd
ever believe, I s'pose,--anybody that knows me an' knows her too. But I
can't get no light nor no sense about it. But I'm only a man, Mrs.
Prency, an' you're a woman. She's a woman too, an' it did seem to me
that maybe you, with all you're good sense an' all your
good-heartedness, could think of somethin', some way, that would bring
that gal back to what she ort to be before she goes an' does what her
mother done--marry some worthless fool before she's old enough to
marry at all, an' then be helpless and downcast all the rest of her
life."

"I might," said the lady, after musing a little while, "I might