"
"Perhaps you are right," I said, and we both broke into a laugh.
"I wish I could tell you," said Sylvia, "how much I am charmed with your
idea of the brotherhood. I haven't enjoyed myself so much for ever so
long."
We were now nearing the little house at the bottom of the hill. An idea
struck me.
"Who is it that you are going to visit?" I asked.
"It is an old man," she said, "who has the rheumatism so badly that he
cannot move. He has to take his medicine every hour, and his wife is
worn out sitting up and giving it to him, and Sister Agatha and I were
sent to take care of him during the morning, and let the poor old woman
get some sleep."
"Very good," said I, "here is a chance for me to make a beginning in my
scheme of brotherhood, and that without asking leave or license of
anybody. I will go in with you, and help you nurse the old man."
"I expect you can do it splendidly," said Sylvia, "and now we can see
how a brotherhood would work."
We entered a little house, which apparently had once been a good enough
home for humble dwellers, but which now showed signs of extreme poverty.
A man with gray hair, and placid, pale face, was lying on a bed in one
corner of the room into which the door opened, and in a chair near by
sat an old woman, her head bobbing in an uneasy nap.
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