She shook off the phantasy,--and yet how well the girl
stood. It was not every one that could stand still and well.
"Please sit down," she repeated with her softest charm, not dreaming
that outside the school white persons did not ask this girl to sit in
their presence. But even this did not move Zora. She sat down. There was
in her, walking, standing, sitting, a simple directness which Mrs.
Vanderpool sensed and met.
"Zora, I need some one to help me--to do my hair and serve my coffee,
and dress and take care of me. The work will not be hard, and you can
travel and see the world and live well. Would you like it?"
"But I do not know how to do all these things," returned Zora, slowly.
She was thinking rapidly--Was this the Way? It sounded wonderful. The
World, the great mysterious World, that stretched beyond the swamp and
into which Bles and the Silver Fleece had gone--did it lead to the Way?
But if she went there what would she see and do, and would it be
possible to become such a woman as Miss Smith pictured?
"What is the world like?" asked Zora.
Mrs. Vanderpool smiled. "Oh, I meant great active cities and buildings,
myriads of people and wonderful sights."
"Yes--but back of it all, what is it really? What does it look like?"
"Heavens, child! Don't ask. Really, it isn't worth while peering back of
things.
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