And he don't mean to go himself, if 'tendin' up to
meetin' 'll keep him clear.
"It's kind of queer to me," he went on, slowly, "to see the number
of folks that make up their minds to be good--or what they call
good--because they're scared to be bad. Doin' right because right IS
right, and lettin' the Almighty credit 'em with that, because He's
generally supposed to know it's right full well as they do--that ain't
enough for their kind. They have to keep hollerin' out loud how good
they are so He'll hear and won't make any mistake in bookin' their own
particular passage. Sort of takin' out a religious insurance policy, you
might say 'twas. . . . Humph!" he added, coming out of his reverie and
looking doubtfully at his companion, "I--I hope I ain't shocked you,
ma'am. I don't mean to be irreverent, you understand. I've thought
consider'ble about such things and I have funny ideas maybe."
Thankful declared that she was not shocked. She had heard but little of
her driver's long dissertation. She was thinking of her interview with
Mr. Cobb and the probability of his accepting her proposal and taking a
mortgage on her East Wellmouth property. If he refused, what should
she do then? And if he accepted and she went on to carry her plan into
execution, what would be the outcome? The responsibility was heavy. She
would be risking all she had in the world. If she succeeded, well and
good. If she failed she would be obliged to begin all over again, to try
for another position as housekeeper, perhaps to "go out nursing" once
more.
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