“Yes, sir.”

“How do you git it, sonny?  Tell the folks.”

“Sister,” said the child.  “She’s awful good to me.  When she kin, she stays whole days with me, but she can’t stay much on account of havin’ to earn money to pay for me.  It takes ’most all she earns....  She’s had to do kinds of work she don’t like, on account of it earnin’ more money than nice jobs.  We’re savin’ to have me cured, and then I’m goin’ to go to work and keep her. I got it all planned out while I was layin’ there.”

“Is your sister a bad woman?”

“Nobody dast say that, even if I hain’t got legs.  I’d grab somethin’ and throw it at ’em.”

“Was this here sister ever one of them actoresses?”

“Once, when I was sicker ’n usual ... it was awful costly.  That time she was in a show, ’cause she got more money there.  She got enough to pay for what I needed.”

“Wear tights, sonny?  Calc’late she wore tights?”

“Sure.  She told me.  She said to me it wasn’t wearin’ tights that done harm, and she could be jest as good in tights as wearin’ a fur coat if her heart wasn’t bad.  That’s what she said.  Yes, sir, she said she wouldn’t wear nothin’ if it had to be done to git me medicine.”

“Um!...  What’s this here sister’s name?”

“Eva Hopkins.”

Scattergood turned again toward the door.  “Homer,” he called, and Homer Locker entered, almost dragging Yvette by the arm....  The congregation heard one sound.  It was a glad, childish cry.  “Eva!...  Eva!...  Here I am.”

Then it saw Yvette Hinchbrooke wrench free from Homer and run down the aisle to snatch the child from Scattergood’s arms into her own.

Scattergood stood erect, looking from face to face in silence.  It was a full minute before he spoke.

“There ...” he said.  “You kin see the evil of passin’ jedgments.  You kin see the evil of old coots traffickin’ in rumors....  What you’ve heard the boy tell is all true....  That’s the girl you was ready to tar and feather and run out of town....  Now what you think of yourselves?”

It was Deacon Pettybone, blinking a mist from his watery blue eyes, who arose to the moment.  “Folks,” he said, huskily, “I’m goin’ to pass among you directly, carryin’ the collection plate.  ’Tain’t fer furrin missions.  It’s fer that child yonder—­to git them legs fixed....  And standin’ here I want to acknowledge to sin in public.  I been hard, and lackin’ in charity.  I been passin’ jedgments, contrairy to God’s word.  I been stiff-backed and obdurate, and I calc’late they’s others a-sittin’ here that needs prayers for forgiveness....  Now I’m a-comin’ with the plate.  Them that hain’t prepared to give to-night kin whisper to me what they’ll give to-morrer—­and have no fear of my forgittin’ the amounts they pledge....  And I’m askin’ forgiveness of the young woman and hopin’ she won’t hold it ag’in’ an old man—­when she settles down here amongst us, like I hope she’ll do.”