"Well, I think we ought to do what we can," assented Evelyn.
"Now, our Local Council has been doing a great deal toward improving the sanitation of Clarkson."
"Oh yes," exclaimed Mrs. Wingate from her corner.
"And we feel that every educated woman in the community should lend her aid to all the causes of the Local Council."
"Yes?" said Evelyn, rather weakly. She felt that the plot was thickening. "I really know very little of such things, but—" The "but" was highly equivocal.
"And we are very anxious to get a representative on the School Board," continued Miss Morris. "The election is in November. Has it ever occurred to you how perfectly absurd it is for men to conduct our educational affairs when the schools are properly a branch of the home and should be administered, in part, at least, by women?" She punctuated her talk so that her commas cut into the air. Mrs. Wingate, the third and silent lady, approved this more or less inarticulately.
"I know there's a great deal in that," said Evelyn.
"And we, the Executive Committee of the Council, have been directed to ask you"—Mrs. Wingate and Mrs. Atherton moved nervously in their seats, but Miss Morris now spoke with more deliberation, and with pedagogic care of her pronunciation—"to become a candidate for the School Board."
Evelyn felt a cold chill creeping over her, and swallowed hard in an effort to summon some word to meet this shock.