I blushed for you. I almost felt ashamed, after all the president
said, that you had given so little."

"You seem, Miss Eschelle," remarked Mr. Ponsonby, "to be enthusiastic
about the education and elevation of the colored people."

"Yes, I am; I quite share Mr. Henderson's feeling about it. I'm for the
elevation of everything."

"There is a capital chance for you," said Henderson; "the university
wants some scholarships."

"And I've half a mind to found one--the Eschelle Scholarship of Washing
and Clear-starching. You ought to have seen my clothes that came back to
the car. Probably they were not done by your students. The things looked
as if they had been dragged through the Cat-a-what-do-you-call-it River,
and ironed with a pine chip."

"Could you do them any better, with all your cultivation?" asked
Margaret.

"I think I could, if I was obliged to. But I couldn't get through that
university, with all its ologies and laboratories and Greek and queer
bottles and machines. You have neglected my education, Mr. Henderson."

"It is not too late to begin now; you might see if you could pass the
examination here. It is part of our plan gradually to elevate the
whites," said Henderson.

"Yes, I know; and did you see that some of the scholars had red hair and
blue eyes, quite in the present style? And how nice the girls looked,"
she rattled on; "and what a lot of intelligent faces, and how they
kindled up when the president talked about the children of Israel in the
wilderness forty years, and Caesar crossing the Rubicon! And you, sir"
--she turned to the Englishman--"I've heard, were against all this
emancipation during the war."

"Bless my soul!" exclaimed Ponsonby, "we never were against emancipation,
and wanted the best side to win."

"You had a mighty queer way of showing it, then."

"Well, honestly, Miss Eschelle, do you think the negroes are any better
off?"

"You'd better ask them. My opinion is that everybody should do what he
likes in this world."

"Then what are you girding Mr. Henderson for about his university?"

"Because these philanthropists, like Mr. Henderson and Uncle Jerry
Hollowell, are all building on top; putting on the frosting before the
cake rises."

"Haven't you found out, Mr. Ponsonby," Margaret interrupted, "that if
there were eight sides to a question, Miss Eschelle would be on every one
of them?"

"And right, too. There are eight sides to every question, and generally
more.