"There is plenty of work here for somebody; I could almost hope that it won’t prove ours."
"It will," replied Rhoda, with a stifled sigh. "There is an old Eastern legend about the black camel that comes and lies down before the door of him upon whom Heaven is going to lay her chastening hand. Every time I have seen that awful trio on the fence-top, they were fairly surrounded by black camels in my imagination. Mistress Mary, I am not sure but that, in self-defense, we ought to become a highly specialized Something. We are now a home, a mother, a nursery, a labor bureau, a divorce court, a registry of appeals, a soup kitchen, an advisory hoard, and a police force. If we take her, what shall we be?"
"We will see first where she belongs," smiled Mary. (Nobody could help smiling at Rhoda.) "Somebody has been neglecting his or her duty. If we can make that somebody realise his delinquencies, all the better, for the responsibility will not be ours. If we cannot, why, the case is clear enough and simple enough in my mind. We certainly do not want 'Mene, mene, tekel, upharsin' written over this, of all doors."
