Questions concerning the condition of the poor in our large towns had, from the distance of speculation and the press, been of late occupying a good deal of Mr. Raymount’s attention. He believed that he was enlightening the world on those most important perhaps of all the social questions of our day, their wrongs and their rights. He little suspected that his daughter was doing more for the poor, almost without knowing it, than he with all his conscious wisdom. She could not, however, have made her request at a more auspicious moment, for he was just then feeling especially benevolent toward them for an article had just appeared in which he had expressed himself powerfully on behalf of the poor. Though he was far from being unprejudiced, he had a horror of prejudice, and hunted it as uncompromisingly in himself as in another. He was not like most people who, surmising a fault in themselves, rouse every individual bristle of their nature to defend and retain the very thing that degrades them.

He, therefore, speedily overcame his initial reluctance and agreed to his daughter’s strange proposal. He was willing to make that much of an attempt toward the establishment of relations with the class he befriended in print. It was an approach which, if not altogether free of condescension, was still kindly meant.

Hester was greatly delighted with his ready compliance with her request, and for two weeks was busy preparing the house for the concert. A couple of charwomen were turned loose to thoroughly clean the great room. But before long, Mr. Raymount realized that no amount of cleaning could remove the dirty look of the place, so he committed the dingy room to painters and paperhangers. Under their hands it was wonderful to see how it gradually took on a gracious, lighter, and more colourful appearance.

The day for the concert was finally set for a week off, and Hester began to invite her poorer friends and neighbours to spend that evening at her father’s house, when her mother would give them tea and she would sing to them. The married women were to bring their husbands if they would come, and each young woman might bring a friend. Most of the men turned up their noses at the invitation, but were nevertheless inclined to go out of curiosity. Some spoke doubtfully—they might be able to go, they were not sure. Some seemed to regard consent as a favour, if not a condescension. Of these, however, two or three were hampered by the uncertainty as to the redemption of their best clothes from the pawnbroker.

In requesting the presence of some of the small tradespeople, Hester asked it as a favour, begging their assistance in entertaining their poorer neighbours. And so put, the invitation was heartily accepted.