and thoroughly investigated the new institution and its claims.
Sandy wedged her slender little person in between the two men. Mrs.
Salisbury sat near by, reading what was handed to her. The older
woman's attitude was one of dispassionate unbelief; she smiled a
benign indulgence upon these newfangled ideas. But in her heart she
felt the stirring of feminine uneasiness and resentment. It was HER
sacred region, after all, into which these young people were probing
so light-heartedly. These were her secrets that they were
exploiting; her methods were to be disparaged, tossed aside.

The booklet, with its imposing A.S.D.S. set out fair and plain upon
a brown cover, was exhaustive. Its frontispiece was a portrait of
one Eliza Slocumb Holley, founder of the school, and on its back
cover it bore the vignetted photograph of a very pretty graduate, in
apron and cap, with her broom and feather duster. In between these
two pictures were pages and pages of information, dozens of
pictures. There were delightful long perspectives of model kitchens,
of vegetable gardens, orchards, and dairies. There were pictures of
girls making jam, and sterilizing bottles, and arranging trays for
the sick. There were girls amusing children and making beds. There
were glimpses of the model flats, built into the college buildings,
with gas stoves and dumb-waiters. And there were the usual pictures
of libraries, and playgrounds, and tennis courts.

"Such nice-looking girls!" said Sandy.

"Oh, Mother says that they are splendid girls," Owen said, bashfully
eager, "just the kind that go in for trained nursing, you know, or
stenography, or bookkeeping."