of an angel whose trade it is to decipher the language of faces.
This angel must have perceived that Alma's eyes said,
with the courage of a second in a duel, "Go on, now is the time!"
and that Harry's answered, with masculine pusillanimity,
"I don't like to!"

But he spoke. "Very likely your mother does sometimes work too hard,"
said he. "But don't you think it would be harder for her not to work?
Why, she must have been in the building ever since my father bought it;
and she's been a janitor and a fire inspector and a doctor and a
ministering angel combined! That is why we never raised the rent
to you when we improved the building, and raised it on the others.
My father told me your mother was the best paying tenant he ever had.
And don't you remember how, when I used to come with him, when I
was a little boy, she used to take me in her room while he went
the rounds? She was always doing good to everybody, the same way.
She has a heart as big as the Mississippi, and I assure you,
Miss Louder, you won't make her happy, but miserable, if you try
to dam up its channel. She has often told me that she loved
the building and all the people in it. They all love her.
I HOPE, Miss Louder, you'll think of those things before you decide.
She is so unselfish that she would go in a minute if she thought it
would make you happier." The angel aforesaid, during this speech
(which Harry delivered with great energy and feeling), must have had
all his wits busy on Tilly's impassive features; but he could read
ardent approval, succeeded by indignation, on Alma's countenance,
at his first glance. The indignation came when Tilly spoke.
She said: "Thank you, Mr. Lossing, you're very kind, I'm sure"--
Harry softly kicked the wastebasket under the desk--"but I guess
it's best for us to go. I've been thinking about it for six months,