CHAPTER XX. A STRANGE DINNER. The gentleman was at the mission rooms at the meeting of the children the next forenoon and Richard went with him at noon. They had not ridden far when the man said, "I believe I have not told you my name, Mr. Harrison? You may have wondered at it." "I have wished whenever I spoke to you that I knew your name," was the answer. "It is James Warren," continued the man, without an explanation of why he had withheld it so long. Richard recognized the name as that of one of the largest merchants in the city and one who bore a reputation for kindness and generosity. In a half hour the home on a leading avenue was reached. It was a new experience for Richard to be in surroundings of such wealth as a guest. Soon Mrs. Warren entered the room and was introduced. Richard felt the room whirling. There before him was the same face, except much older and refined by sorrow, that looked its gratitude up to him in the gipsy camp and upon the day of graduation. In an instant he recovered himself and took the hand extended in welcome. "We are so glad, Mr. Harrison, to have you in our house. I heard you at the church and Mr. Warren has given me a faithful ac-. count of what he has seen during the week. We will now go out to dinner. Afterwards we can talk over something that interests us." What a dinner it was for Richard, after living by himself and cooking his own meals, to have the food well cooked and plenty and to talk with persons of such refinement and spirit! The conversation was first about Richard's home village. Mr. Warren knew many of the leading men and had driven by the Harrison home. From this it led naturally on to his work in the city. The Warrens were moved when he spoke of his dedication by his parents to the service of men. They asked many questions about the work and Richard touched by the sympathy which was evident on their part, spoke out the hopes of his heart. Frequently during the dinner the striking resemblance between this woman's face and the face of long ago recurred to him and each time he put it away as only an accident. After dinner. they were seated in the library. "For we want you to feel at home," said Mrs. Warren. Soon, Mr. Warren, looking at Richard with the steady gaze which Richard felt from the first saw down to the heart of anyone, said, "Mr. Harrison, from listening to you last Sunday and by my observation of your work this week and from a rigid examination I have made about your life in your early home, in college, and since you came to this city, I know we can trust you." Richard lowered his head. "We wish to tell you something of our life that is not spoken of to others." Then Mr. Warren gave the story of the loss of Ethel, of the change it had wrought in them and of their interest in his work. "I see that you need," said he, "as you told us last Sunday, a new building. We stand ready to erect for you in due time and in a proper place a building large enough and complete in every way, and to help in its support. We have no heirs." As he uttered these words his lip quivered and he was silent a moment. "And the means we have must all be used to help the needy. Sometimes we wonder if Ethel, now a young woman, if alive, is among such surroundings as yours." Richard could not speak. His plans were to be realized. And should he tell them about the gipsy girl? It could not be that it was Ethel and it would only disturb them and bring another disappointment. Taking their hands, he with difficulty said, "I will see you again soon," and was gone. |