her Anastasia or "Miss Raynor." I
did not know the custom of Mother Superiors when traveling or visiting,
and I determined, as I ascended the steps, to be guided in this matter
by the aspect of the person who opened the door.

It has always been interesting to me to study the character, as well as
I can do so in the brief opportunity generally afforded, of the servants
who open to me the doors of houses. To a certain degree, although of
course it does not do to apply this rule too rigidly, these persons
indicate the characters of the dwellers in the house. My friends have
disputed this point with me, and have asserted that they do not wish to
be so represented, but nevertheless I have frequently found my position
correct.

I prefer to visit those houses whose door service is performed by a
neat, good-looking, intelligent, bright-witted, kindly-tempered,
conscientious, and sympathetic maidservant. A man is generally very
unsatisfactory. He performs his duty in a perfunctory manner. His heart
is not in it. He fears to say a word more than he thinks absolutely
necessary, lest you should imagine him new in service, and had not lost
his interest in answering questions.

But even if the person you ask for be not at home, it is sometimes a
pleasure to be told so by an intelligent maid, such as I have mentioned
above. One's subsequent action is frequently influenced by her counsel
and information. Frequently she is able to indicate to you your true
relation with the household; sometimes she assists in establishing it.

When the door before me opened, I saw a colored woman. I was utterly
discomfited. None of my rules applied to a middle-aged colored woman,
who gazed upon me as if she recognized me as one whom she carried in her
arms when an infant. Actuated by impulse only, I inquired for "Miss
Raynor."

"I reckon," said she, "you's got to de wrong house. Dat lady doan' live
hyar."

"Well, then," I asked quickly, "is there a lady here named Mother
Anastasia?"

The woman showed thirty-two perfectly developed teeth.

"Oh, dat's she? You means de sister. She's hyar, yes, sah. Want to see
her?"

I stated that I certainly desired to see her.

"She's gone out now, sah, an' dere's no tellin' when dey'll git back.
Dey ginerally all gits back 'bout dark. Commonly jist a little arter
dark."

"Not return before dark!" I exclaimed. "That is bad. Can you give me any
idea where I might find Mother Anastasia?"

"I 'spects you