g alone; and it's doing them both so
much good that I don't want to stop it. Then they study German and
Italian with me, and on Saturday have a cooking lesson. You see, my
time is pretty full."

"But a good governess would take every bit of that off your hands, me
dear," said Mrs. Apostleman.

"Oh, but I love to do it!" protested Mrs. Burgoyne with her wide-eyed,
childish look. "You can't really buy for them what you can do yourself,
do you think so? And now the other children are beginning to come in,
and it's such fun! But that isn't all. I have editorial work to do,
besides the Mail, you know. I manage the 'Answers to Mothers' column in
a little eastern magazine. I daresay you've never seen it; it is quite
unpretentious, but it has a large circulation. And these mothers write
me, some of them factory-workers, or mothers of child-workers even, or
lonely women on some isolated ranch; you've no idea how interesting it
is! Of course they don't know who I am, but we become good friends,
just the same. I have the best reference books about babies and
sickness, and I give them the best advice I can. Sometimes it's a boy's
text-book that is wanted, or a second-hand crib, or some dear old
mother to get into a home, and they are so self-respecting about it,
and so afraid they aren't paying fair--I love that work! But, of
course, it takes time. Then I've been hunting up a music-teacher for
the girls. I can't teach them that--"

"I meant to speak to you of that," Mrs. White said. "There's a Monsieur
Posti, Emil Posti, he studied with Leschetizky, you know, who comes up
from San Francisco every other week, and we all take from him. In
between times--"

"Oh, but I've engaged a nice little Miss Davids from Old Paloma," said
Mrs. Burgoyne.

"From Old Paloma!" echoed three women together. And Mrs. Apostleman
added heavily, "Never heard of her!"

"I got a good little Swedish sewing-woman over there," the hostess
explained, "and she told me of this girl. She's a sweet girl; no
mother, and a little sister to bring up. She was quite pleased."

"But, good heavens! What does she know? What's her method?" demanded
Mrs. White in puzzled disapproval.

"She has a pretty touch," Mrs. Burgoyne said mildly, "and she's
bristling with ambition and ideas. She's not a genius, perhaps; but,
then, neither is either of the girls. I just want them to play for
their own pleasure, read accompaniments; something of that sort. Don't
you know how p