asure for the ride was a course that never occurred to
Mrs. Carew, that never occurred to any of her friends. Mrs. Carew might
have a very vague idea of her daughter's spiritual needs, she might be
an entire stranger to the delicately adjusted and exquisitely
susceptible entity that was the real Jeanette, but she would have gone
hungry rather than have Jeanette unable to wear white shoes to Sunday
School, rather than tie Jeanette's braids with ribbons that were not
stiff and new. She was so entirely absorbed in pursuit of the "correct
thing," so anxious to read what was "being read," to own what was
"right", that she never stopped to seriously consider her own or her
daughter's place in the universe. She was glad, of course when the
children "liked their teacher," just as she had been glad years before
when they "liked their nurse." The reasons for such likings or
dislikings she never investigated; she had taken care of the children
herself during the nurse's regular days "off", but she always regarded
these occasions as so much lost time. Mrs. Carew kept her children, as
she kept her house, well-groomed, and she gave about as much thought to
the spiritual needs of the one as the other. She had been brought up to
believe that the best things in life are to be had for money, and that
earthly happiness or unhappiness falls in exact ratio with the
possession or non-possession of money. She met the growing demands of
her family as well as she could, and practised all sorts of harassing
private economies so that, in the eyes of the world, the family might
seem to be spending a great deal more money than was actually the case.
Mrs. Carew's was not an analytical mind, but sometimes she found
herself genuinely puzzled by the financial state of affairs.

"I don't know where the money GOES to!" she said, in a confidential
moment, to Mrs. Lloyd. They had met in the market, where Mrs. Carew was
consulting a long list of necessary groceries.

"Oh, don't speak of it!" said Mrs. Lloyd, feelingly. "That's so, your
dinner is tomorrow night, isn't it?" she added with interest. "Are you
going to have Lizzie?"

"Oh, dear me, yes! For eight, you know. Shan't you have her?" For Mrs.
Lloyd's turn to entertain Mrs. Burgoyne followed Mrs. Carew's by only a
few days.

"Lizzie and her mother, too," said the other woman. "I don't know
what's the matter with maids in these days," she went on, "they simply
can't do things, as my mother's maids u