t's embarrassing to
suggest this, but, you know--"

Miss Taylor was perfectly self-possessed.

"Mr. Cresswell," she said seriously, "I know very well that it wouldn't
do for your sister to call here, and I sha'n't mind a bit coming by to
see her first. I don't believe in standing on stupid ceremony."

Cresswell thanked her with quiet cordiality, and suggested that when he
was driving by he might pick her up in his gig some morning. Miss Taylor
expressed her pleasure at the prospect. Then the talk wandered to
general matters--the rain, the trees, the people round about, and,
inevitably--the Negro.

"Oh, by the bye," said Mr. Cresswell, frowning and hesitating over the
recollection of his errand's purpose, "there was one matter"--he paused.
Miss Taylor leant forward, all interest. "I hardly know that I ought to
mention it, but your school--"

This charming young lady disarmed his truculent spirit, and the usually
collected and determined young man was at a loss how to proceed. The
girl, however, was obviously impressed and pleased by his evidence of
interest, whatever its nature; so in a manner vastly different from the
one he had intended to assume, he continued:

"There is a way in which we may be of service to you, and that is by
enlightening you upon points concerning which the nature of your
position--both as teacher and socially--must keep you in the dark.

"For instance, all these Negroes are, as you know, of wretchedly low
morals; but there are a few so depraved that it would be suicidal to
take them into this school. We recognize the good you are doing, but we
do not want it more than offset by utter lack of discrimination in
choosing your material."

"Certainly not--have we--" Miss Mary faltered. This beginning was a bit
ominous, wholly unexpected.

"There is a girl, Zora, who has just entered, who--I must speak
candidly--who ought not to be here; I thought it but right to let you
know."

"Thank you, so much. I'll tell Miss Smith." Mary Taylor suddenly felt
herself a judge of character. "I suspected that she was--not what she
ought to be. Believe me, we appreciate your interest."

A few more words, and Mr. Cresswell, after bending courteously over her
hand with a deference no New Englander had ever shown, was riding away
on his white mare.

For a while Mary Taylor sat very quietly. It was like a breath of air
from the real world, this hour's chat with a well-bred gentleman. She
wondered how she h