ned. She reflected
that Mrs. Frankland's influence could only be counteracted by the orator
herself. Could she not talk confidentially with Mrs. Frankland and make
her see the necessity for moderating Phillida's tendency to extreme
courses of action? But when she tried to fancy Mrs. Frankland counseling
moderation in an address, she saw the impossibility of it. Prudence
makes poor woof for oratory. It would "throw a coldness over the
meeting," as the negroes express it, for her to attempt to moderate the
zeal of her disciples; the more that exhortations to moderation were
what they seemed least to require. Another alternative presented itself.
She would appeal from Mrs. Frankland public to Mrs. Frankland private,
from the orator aflame to the woman cool. If Mrs. Frankland could be
rightly coached and guided, she might by private conversation with
Phillida counteract the evil wrought by her public speech.

Mrs. Hilbrough's state of antagonism continued to the very close of the
address, and then while many were thanking and congratulating the
speaker, and receiving the greetings she gave with ever-fresh
effusiveness, Mrs. Hilbrough came in her turn, and Mrs. Frankland
extended both hands to her, saying, "My dear Mrs. Hilbrough, how are
you?" But Mrs. Hilbrough did not offer her any congratulations. She only
begged Mrs. Frankland to make an appointment that she might consult her
on a matter of importance.

"Certainly, certainly, dear friend," said Mrs. Frankland, beaming;
"_when_ever you wish and _wher_ever you say."

"Perhaps you could drive with me in the Park to-morrow, if the weather
is fine," said Mrs. Hilbrough. "Shall I call for you about half-past
three?"

"With pleasure, Mrs. Hilbrough"; and Mrs. Frankland made an affectionate
farewell nod backward at Mrs. Hilbrough as she stretched out her hand to
one of her hearers who was waiting on the other side for a share of her
sunshine.

Mrs. Hilbrough turned about at this moment to find Phillida, meaning to
take her home in the carriage, but Phillida, engrossed with thoughts and
feelings excited by the address, had slipped away and taken the Madison
Avenue car.

She had counted that this address would give her personal guidance; she
had prayed that it might throw light on her path. Its whole tenor
brought to her conscience the sharpest demand that she should hold to
the rigor of her vocation at every cost. All the way home the text about
leaving "father, or mothe