“He may never have had a genuine suit of West of England broadcloth in his life, and I wanted him to have the best.  The difference in price would only amount to a few dollars; and if we were getting ourselves a satin or velvet gown we would not have hesitated a moment over the difference of five or six dollars.”

“My ward will need some severe lessons in economy before she can be entrusted with a house full of children.  Paris dolls and becoming dresses for her prettiest children would soon drain the pocket.”

I said no more.  My enthusiasm, viewed in the light of my guardian’s cold criticism, seemed exceedingly Utopian, and I concluded that my best plan was to do the work that came in my way cheerfully and lovingly, without sighing hopelessly after the impossible.  To make the motherless little fleck of immortality happy that now nestled confidingly in my arms for a brief hour, was the work that just then lay nearest to me; and I set myself about doing it with right good will.

As we neared Cavendish, the kindly faced old gentleman started for his own seat, but paused on the way at my side, and shook my hand cordially as he said:  “I want to thank you, Miss, for giving us all such a wholesome lesson.  I am an old man now, and can look back over the deeds of more than three score and ten years; and I tell you there’s none gives me more real satisfaction than the acts of kindness I’ve done to others.  If I were beginning the journey again, I’d set myself to do such work as that, rather than trying to pile up money that at the last I’d have to leave to some one that mightn’t thank me.  I’ve a fancy, too, that the kindnesses follow us into another life.  If I don’t mistake, when you get old like me, you’ll have many pleasant memories of the kind to look back upon; and then you may remember the old man’s words long after he has crumbled to dust.”

I smiled brightly up into his strong, wholesome face and would really have liked to know more about him, but like many a person we meet on the journey of life, as ships on some wide sea, signal briefly to each other and then pass out of sight, so I never saw or heard of him afterward.  He stood a moment stroking the baby’s curly head, and then with a murmured “God bless the little lad,” he passed on to his own seat.  I felt instinctively that all this sentiment would be exceedingly distasteful to Mr. Winthrop, and was amused at the look of relief that passed over his face when our own station was reached.  As I returned the baby to his father, he grasped my hand with a pressure that pained me and said, scarce above a whisper: 

“I will pass your kindness along to some other desolate one some day.  It is the only recompense within my power to make you.”

“What I did has been a genuine pleasure.  This little fellow has far overpaid me.”

“It was a great deal you did for me just at that bitter moment.”