d about,
and listened with masculine gravity to a long written report on the work
done or needing to be done at the Children's Hospital. Debate rose on
the question of putting in a new kitchen range and renewing the
plumbing. Mrs. Dyer took the floor, or the table, very much to herself,
dealing severely with the treatment of the late kitchen range, and
bringing numerous complaints against the matron, the management and the
hospital in general. There was an evident look of weariness on the part
of the board when she began, but not until after a two hours' session
did she show signs of exhaustion and allow a vote to be taken. The
necessary work was then rapidly done, and at last Mrs. Murray, referring
in a business-like way to her notes, remarked that she had nothing more
to suggest except that Mr. Hazard, the new clergyman at St. John's,
should be elected as a member of their visiting committee.

"Do we want more figure-heads there?" asked Mrs. Dyer. "Every day and
every hour of Mr. Hazard's time ought to be devoted to his church. What
we want is workers. We have no one to look after the children's clothes
and go down into the kitchen. All our visitors are good for is to amuse
the children for half an hour now and then by telling them stories."

Mrs. Murray explained that the election was rather a matter of custom;
that the rector of St. John's always had been a member of their
committee, and it would look like a personal slight if they left him
off; so the vote was passed and the meeting broke up. When the last echo
of rapid talk and leave-taking had ceased, Mrs. Murray sat down again
before the fire with the air of one who has tried to keep her temper and
has not thoroughly satisfied her ambition.

"Mrs. Dyer is very trying," she said to Esther who stayed after the
others went; "but there is always one such woman on every board. I
should not care except that she gives me a dreadful feeling that I am
like her. I hope I'm not, but I know I am."

"You're not, Aunt Sarah!" replied Esther. "She can stick pins faster and
deeper than a dozen such as you. What makes me unhappy is that her
spitefulness goes so deep. Her dig at me about telling stories to the
children seemed to cut me up by the roots. All I do is to tell them
stories."

"I hope she will never make herself useful in that way," rejoined Mrs.
Murray grimly. "She would frighten the poor little things into
convulsions. Don't let her worry you about usefulness. O