definite idea of what I want. Who is your friend?"

"Not a friend, exactly. An acquaintance of my sister's, who is
eligible for the post, if she suits you. Shall I send her round to
see you to-morrow?"

"Yes, please. Your mention of her is enough recommendation. I want,
Mr. Calhoun, to do more or less charitable work this winter. That was
another of Mr. Schuyler's whims, to attend to all charities himself,
and to object to my giving anything personally. As I shall be quiet
and unoccupied this winter, I plan to do some systematic work in a
benevolent way. I know this sounds strange to you, that I should be
planning these things so soon. But the truth is, I do plan them,
purposely, because I don't want to think about the present horror. I
need something to keep my mind from thinking of the awful tragedy or I
shall go mad. It seemed to me not wrong to think about some work that
should benefit others; and to do this, will give me an outlet for my
energies and be helpful to the poor and suffering."

Ruth Schuyler looked almost beautiful as her face glowed with
enthusiasm on her subject. I realized how the nervous, highstrung
woman must be torn with agony at the revelations of her husband's
defects and the uncertainty of his honor and morality, and all in
addition to the terrible experiences she was undergoing and must yet
encounter.

I went home filled with a desire to help her in every way I could, and
though I went to my room at once, I could not think of sleep. I felt
like planning ways to put the police off the track or finding some
method of making them cease their hunt for Vicky Van.