"But I thought--there were working-girls' homes, and--and
settlement-houses that--that did that sort of thing," faltered Mrs.
Carew in a voice that few of her friends would have recognized.

"There are. Did you ever see the inside of one of them?"

"Why, n-no; though I--I have given money to them." This time Mrs.
Carew's voice was almost apologetically pleading in tone.

Sadie Dean smiled curiously.

"Yes, I know. There are lots of good women that have given money to
them--and have never seen the inside of one of them. Please don't
understand that I'm sayin' anythin' against the homes. I'm not.
They're good things. They're almost the only thing that's doing
anything to help; but they're only a drop in the bucket to what is
really needed. I tried one once; but there was an air about
it--somehow I felt-- But there, what's the use? Probably they aren't
all like that one, and maybe the fault was with me. If I should try to
tell you, you wouldn't understand. You'd have to live in it--and you
haven't even seen the inside of one. But I can't help wonderin'
sometimes why so many of those good women never seem to put the real
HEART and INTEREST into the preventin' that they do into the rescuin'.
But there! I didn't mean to talk such a lot. But--you asked me."

"Yes, I asked you," said Mrs. Carew in a half-stifled voice, as she
turned away.

Not only from Sadie Dean, however, was Mrs. Carew learning things