But sweeter than any applause were the words of one woman
who grasped her hand, and whispered with wet eyes:
"I knew your blessed husband; he was very good to me, and I've been
thanking the Lord he had such a wife for his reward!"
Christie was thinking of all this as she sat alone that day, and
asking herself if she should go on; for the ladies had been as
grateful as the women; had begged her to come and speak again,
saying they needed just such a mediator to bridge across the space
that now divided them from those they wished to serve. She certainly
seemed fitted to act as interpreter between the two classes; for,
from the gentleman her father she had inherited the fine instincts,
gracious manners, and unblemished name of an old and honorable race;
from the farmer's daughter, her mother, came the equally valuable
dower of practical virtues, a sturdy love of independence, and great
respect for the skill and courage that can win it.
Such women were much needed and are not always easy to find; for
even in democratic America the hand that earns its daily bread must
wear some talent, name, or honor as an ornament, before it is very
cordially shaken by those that wear white gloves.
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