so much for society, and, with my position, mamma
says, have such a career. McDonald, what is society for?"

That was such a poser that the governess threw up her hands, and then
laughed aloud, and then shook her head. "Wiser people than you have
asked that question."

"I asked mamma that, for she is in it all the time. She didn't like it
much, and asked, 'What is anything for?' You see, McDonald, I've been
with mamma many a time when her friends came to see her, and they
never have anything to say, never--what I call anything. I wonder if in
society they go about saying that? What do they do it for?"

Miss McDonald had her own opinion about what is called society and its
occupations and functions, but she did not propose to encourage this
girl, who would soon take her place in it, in such odd notions.

"Don't you know, child, that there is society and society? That it is
all sorts of a world, that it gets into groups and circles about, and
that is the way the world is stirred up and kept from stagnation. And,
my dear, you have just to do your duty where you are placed, and that is
all there is about it."

"Don't be cross, McDonald. I suppose I can think my thoughts?"

"Yes, you can think, and you can learn to keep a good deal that you
think to yourself. Now, Evelyn, haven't you any curiosity to see what
this world we are talking about is like?"

"Indeed I have," said Evelyn, coming out of her reflective mood into
a girlish enthusiasm. "And I want to see what I shall be like in it.
Only--well, how is that?" And she held out the handkerchief she had been
plying her needle on.

Miss McDonald looked at the stitches critically, at the letters T.M.
enclosed in an oval.

"That is very good, not too mechanical. It will please your father.
The oval makes a pretty effect; but what are those signs between the
letters?"

"Don't you see? It is a cartouche, and those are hieroglyphics--his name
in Egyptian. I got it out of Petrie's book."

"It certainly is odd."

"And every one of the twelve is going to be different. It is so
interesting to hunt up the signs for qualities. If papa can read it he
will find out a good deal that I think about him."

The governess only smiled for reply. It was so like Evelyn, so different
from others even in the commonplace task of marking handkerchiefs, to
work a little archaeology into her expression of family affection.

Mrs. Mavick's talks with her daughter in which she attempted to