Mrs. Grey saw the light on the columns, too, as she lay lazily in her
soft white bed. There was a certain delicious languor in the late
lingering fall of Alabama that suited her perfectly. Then, too, she
liked the house and its appointments; there was not, to be sure, all the
luxury that she was used to in her New York mansion, but there was a
certain finish about it, an elegance and staid old-fashioned hospitality
that appealed to her tremendously. Mrs. Grey's heart warmed to the sight
of Helen in her moments of spasmodic caring for the sick and afflicted
on the estate. No better guardian of her philanthropies could be found
than these same Cresswells. She must, of course, go over and see dear
Sarah Smith; but really there was not much to say or to look at.
The prospects seemed most alluring. Later, Mr. Easterly talked a while
on routine business, saying, as he turned away:
"I am more and more impressed, Mrs. Grey, with your wisdom in placing
large investments in the South. With peaceful social conditions the
returns will be large."
Mrs. Grey heard this delicate flattery complacently. She had her streak
of thrift, and wanted her business capacity recognized. She listened
attentively.
"For this reason, I trust you will handle your Negro philanthropies
judicially, as I know you will. There's dynamite in this race problem
for amateur reformers, but fortunately you have at hand wise and
sympathetic advisers in the Cresswells.
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