"Oh, only to the Girls' Club," she replied, carelessly. "We're having a little informal sort of concert for them to-night, and I promised to go."
"Well," said Mrs. Pomeroy, "I wonder what we shall have next. When I was young, girls thought tract distribution and collecting for missions good enough for them. Now, they must have all sorts of new-fangled ideas! Where's the use of taking these girls out of their homes at night, when they've been out all day?"
"If you saw some of their homes!" Miss Pomeroy replied. "And some of them have none!"
"I say, Clara," said her brother, lingering a little, "suppose you take me with you to help! I don't mind sacrificing myself to that extent. I'll read them the "Bad Little Boy," or anything else you like."
"Thank you for nothing! We don't have any boys there," she replied, severely.
"Well, that's gratitude, I must say. But still, I'll come for you if you like. What time? Ten? or half-past nine?"
"Half-past nine will do," she replied. "Really, Harold is in a wonderfully obliging mood, to-night!" she remarked, as she left the room to get ready.
"You don't half do your brother justice," said the fond mother.
At the concert, the girls were whispering among themselves about the rumored strike, but of course nothing reached Miss Pomeroy's ears. Neither did she observe a little stolen talk between her brother, as he waited for her at the door, and Nellie Grove, as she went out alone, avoiding Lizzie, who looked very sad and downcast.
"May I come to see you to-morrow, Miss Blanchard?" said Lizzie, watching her opportunity. "You know there isn't going to be any work at the mill, and there's something I want to speak to you about."