Mrs. Frost had installed herself as favorite since Mrs. Alger had praised
her hair. She now came forward, and, dropping fondly at her knee, looked
up to her for instruction. "Don't you think that she showed her sense in
giving up at the very beginning, if she found she was n't equal to it?"
She gave her head a little movement from side to side, and put the mass
of her back hair more on show.

"Perhaps," said Mrs. Alger, looking at the favorite not very favorably.

"Oh, I don't think she's given up," Miss Gleason interposed, in her
breathless manner. She waited to be asked why, and then she added, "I
think she's acting in consultation with Dr. Mulbridge. He may have a
certain influence over her,--I think he has; but I know they are acting
in unison."

Mrs. Merritt flung her grass-straw away. "Perhaps it is to be Dr.
Mulbridge, after all, and not Mr. Libby."

"I have thought of that," Miss Gleason assented candidly. "Yes, I have
thought of that. I have thought of their being constantly thrown
together, in this way. It would not discourage me. She could be quite as
true to her vocation as if she remained single. Truer."

"Talking of true," said Mrs. Scott, "always does make me think of blue.
They say that yellow will be worn on everything this winter."

"Old gold?" asked Mrs. Frost. Yes, more than ever."

"Dear!" cried the other lady. "I don't know what I shall do. It perfectly