missionary's wife's dress, but her stitches were so hopelessly uneven
that I had quietly taken it from her and told her I was out of work
and would do it myself. The poor child had blushed when she gave it
up. She evidently knew her deficiencies.

Mrs. Jameson read selections from Robert Browning until six o'clock,
and by that time Mrs. White had attained to the calmness of despair.
At a quarter of six she whispered to me that the biscuits were
spoiled, and then her face settled into an expression of stony
peace. When Mrs. Jameson finally closed her book there was a murmur
which might have been considered expressive of relief or applause,
according to the amount of self-complacency of the reader. Mrs.
Jameson evidently considered it applause, for she bowed in a highly
gracious manner, and remarked: "I am very glad if I have given you
pleasure, ladies, and I shall be more than pleased at some future
time to read some other selections even superior to these which I
have given, and also to make some remarks upon them."

There was another murmur, which might have been of pleasure at the
prospect of the future reading, or the respite from the present one;
I was puzzled to know which it did mean.

We always had our supper at our sewing meetings at precisely five
o'clock, and now it was an hour later. Mrs. White rose and went out
directly, and Flora Clark and I followed her to assist. We began
laying the table as fast as we could, while Mrs. White was cutting
the cake. The ladies of the society brought the cake and pie, and
Mrs. White furnished the bread and tea. However, that night it was so
very warm we had decided to have lemonade instead of tea. Mrs. White
had put it to vote among the ladies when they first came, and we had