"Miss Mills?" she inquired, giving two of Elizabeth's fingers a twitch.
"No, Miss Gordon," said Elizabeth. "Miss Mills asks if you will be so good as to excuse her this evening. She has an unusual amount of work." She was about to add an apology for her sister, when Miss Kendall, looking frankly relieved, broke in: "Oh, it doesn't matter. You see, I'm sent by our Young Women's Guild—of St. Stephen's, you know; they are trying to call upon all the young women in this district who are away from home and likely to be lonely, and our president gave me Seaton Crescent. It will be perfectly satisfactory if I just report on them."
She opened a little elegant leather-bound note-book and consulted it in a business-like manner. "I mustn't miss anyone; Miss Withrow, our president, is so particular. Let me see. You are Miss Gordon,"—she put a mark opposite the name,—"one call; Miss Mills—two calls. I shall leave her a card. Then there are Miss Brownlee and Miss Chester—they are out, I understand, but I shall leave cards so I can count them too. Now, do you know of any others in this house who should attend St. Stephen's?"
Elizabeth's eyes were growing bigger every moment. This was an entirely new and original manner of comforting the lonely. Evidently Miss Kendall believed in bringing all her business ability to bear on her acts of charity. "Just what I thought they'd do," she said to herself. Then her love of mischief came to her undoing. Her long lashes drooped over her eyes.
"There are my brother and his friend, Mr. MacAllister," she said with wicked intent.
"Oh, I don't want young men," said Miss Kendall all unsuspicious. "There is another society for looking after them. MacAllister"—she consulted the note-book. "I think that was the name of the person who sent in another young woman's name—Turner. Is there a Miss Turner boarding here?"
Elizabeth wondered what in the world Charles Stuart had to do with it, as she ran over the list of boarders in her mind.
"I can't remember anyone of that name," she answered.
"Oh, well, never mind. I have enough, anyway," said the visitor with a relieved sigh. She dropped the little book into her hand-bag and closed it with a snap. Then she looked about her as if trying to find something to talk about. Elizabeth sat mischievously silent and waited.
The caller seemed to get little inspiration from the furniture. "I was sent to call by our Guild, of course," she remarked again, as though she felt it necessary to account for her presence.