at
card-parties were not functions where one went to get acquainted with
people. She remembered that Miss Kendall had sat at a table near her,
that she had played with a kind of absorbed fury, and had gone off
radiant, bearing a huge brass tray, the winner's trophy.

"Miss Mills?" she inquired, giving two of Elizabeth's fingers a twitch.

"No, Miss Gordon," said Elizabeth. "Miss Mills asks if you will be so
good as to excuse her this evening. She has an unusual amount of
work." She was about to add an apology for her sister, when Miss
Kendall, looking frankly relieved, broke in: "Oh, it doesn't matter.
You see, I'm sent by our Young Women's Guild--of St. Stephen's, you
know; they are trying to call upon all the young women in this district
who are away from home and likely to be lonely, and our president gave
me Seaton Crescent. It will be perfectly satisfactory if I just report
on them."

She opened a little elegant leather-bound note-book and consulted it in
a business-like manner. "I mustn't miss anyone; Miss Withrow, our
president, is so particular. Let me see. You are Miss Gordon,"--she
put a mark opposite the name,--"one call; Miss Mills--two calls. I
shall leave her a card. Then there are Miss Brownlee and Miss
Chester--they are out, I understand, but I shall leave cards so I can
count them too. Now, do you know of any others in this house who
should attend St. Stephen's?"

Elizabeth's eyes were growing bigger every moment. This was an
entirely new and original manner of comforting the lonely. Evidently
Miss Kendall believed in bringing all her business ability to bear on
her acts of charity. "Just what I thought they'd do," she said to
herself. Then her love of mischief came to her undoing. Her long
lashes drooped over her eyes.

"There are my brother and his friend, Mr. MacAllister," she said with
wicked intent.

"Oh, I don't want young men," said Miss Kendall all unsuspicious.
"There is another society for looking after them. MacAllister"--she
consulted the note-book. "I think that was the name of the person who
sent in another young woman's name--Turner. Is there a Miss Turner
boarding here?"

Elizabeth wondered what in the world Charles Stuart had to do with it,
as she ran over the list of boarders in her mind.

"I can't remember anyone of that name," she answered.

"Oh, well, never mind. I have enough, anyway," said the visitor with a
relieved sigh. She dropped the little bo