, go over and see dear
Sarah Smith; but really there was not much to say or to look at.

The prospects seemed most alluring. Later, Mr. Easterly talked a while
on routine business, saying, as he turned away:

"I am more and more impressed, Mrs. Grey, with your wisdom in placing
large investments in the South. With peaceful social conditions the
returns will be large."

Mrs. Grey heard this delicate flattery complacently. She had her streak
of thrift, and wanted her business capacity recognized. She listened
attentively.

"For this reason, I trust you will handle your Negro philanthropies
judicially, as I know you will. There's dynamite in this race problem
for amateur reformers, but fortunately you have at hand wise and
sympathetic advisers in the Cresswells."

Mrs. Grey agreed entirely.

Mary Taylor, alone of the committee, took her commission so seriously as
to be anxious to begin work.

"We are to visit the school this morning, you know," she reminded the
others, looking at her watch; "I'm afraid we're late already."

The remark created mild consternation. It seemed that Mr. Vanderpool had
gone hunting and his wife had not yet arisen. Dr. Boldish was very
hoarse, Mr. Easterly was going to look over some plantations with
Colonel Cresswell, and Mr. Bocombe was engrossed in a novel.

"Clever, but not true to life," he said.

Finally the clergyman and Mr. Bocombe, Mrs. Grey and Mrs. Vanderpool and
Miss Taylor started for the school, with Harry Cresswell, about an hour
after lunch. The delay and suppressed excitement among the little folks
had upset things considerably there, but at the sight of the visitors at
the gate Miss Smith rang the bell.

The party came in, laughing and chatting. They greeted Miss Smith
cordially. Dr. Boldish was beginning to tell a good story when a silence
fell.

The children had gathered, quietly, almost timidly, and before the
distinguished company realized it, they turned to meet that battery of
four hundred eyes. A human eye is a wonderful thing when it simply waits
and watches. Not one of these little things alone would have been worth
more than a glance, but together, they became mighty, portentous. Mr.
Bocombe got out his note-book and wrote furiously therein. Dr. Boldish,
naturally the appointed spokesman, looked helplessly about and whispered
to Mrs. Vanderpool:

"What on earth shall I talk about?"

"The brotherhood of man?" suggested the lady.

"Hardly advisable," r