r, then fluttered furtively
away.

Mrs. Cresswell sat down limply. She saw ruin ahead--to think of a black
girl taking a prize at an all-Southern art exhibit! But there was still
a chance, and she leaped to action. This colored woman was doubtless
some poor deserving creature. She would call on her immediately, and by
an offer of abundant help induce her to withdraw quietly.

Entering her motor, she drove near the address and then proceeded on
foot. The street was a prominent one, the block one of the best, the
house almost pretentious. She glanced at her memorandum again to see if
she was mistaken. Perhaps the woman was a domestic; probably she was,
for the name on the door was Stillings. It occurred to her that she had
heard that name before--but where? She looked again at her memorandum
and at the house.

She rang the bell, asking the trim black maid: "Is there a person named
Caroline Wynn living in this house?"

The girl smiled and hesitated.

"Yes, ma'am," she finally replied. "Won't you come in?" She was shown
into the parlor, where she sat down. The room was most interesting,
furnished in unimpeachable taste. A few good pictures were on the walls,
and Mrs. Cresswell was examining one when she heard the swish of silken
skirts. A lady with gold brown face and straight hair stood before her
with pleasant smile. Where had Mrs. Cresswell seen her before? She tried
to remember, but could not.

"You wished to see--Caroline Wynn?"

"Yes."

"What can I do for you?"

Mrs. Cresswell groped for her proper cue, but the brown lady merely
offered a chair and sat down silently. Mrs. Cresswell's perplexity
increased. She had been planning to descend graciously but
authoritatively upon some shrinking girl, but this woman not only seemed
to assume equality but actually looked it. From a rapid survey, Mrs.
Cresswell saw a black silk stocking, a bit of lace, a tailor-made gown,
and a head with two full black eyes that waited in calmly polite
expectancy.

Something had to be said.

"I--er--came; that is, I believe you sent a group to the art exhibit?"

"Yes."

"It was good--very good."

Miss Wynn said nothing, but sat calmly looking at her visitor. Mrs.
Cresswell felt irritated.

"Of course," she managed to continue, "we are very sorry that we cannot
receive it."

"Indeed? I understood it had taken the first prize."

Mrs. Cresswell was aghast. Who had rushed the news to this woman? She
realized that there were