"Shall I give you some more tea, Mother?" the daughter asked in a somewhat impatient voice. The offer was declined, and the girl rose to go. "I'm off now to skate with the Tremaines at Henglers," she said, and hurriedly left the room.
Mrs. Armstrong sighed in a sort of placid wonder, as Minerva might have sighed coming suddenly upon Psyche running races with Cupid in a wood, and turned to another letter.
It was written in firm, strong writing on paper headed with some official-looking print.
THE WORLD'S WOMAN'S LEAGUE
London Headquarters
100 Regent Street, S. W.
SECRETARY, MISS PAULL
"My dear Charlotte, — I should be extremely glad to see you here to-day about lunch time. I must have a long and important talk with you. The work is in a bad way. I know you are extremely busy, but trust to see you as the matters for conference are urgent.
Your affectionate Sister,
Miss Paull was a well-known figure in what may be called "executive" life. Both she and her elder sister, Mrs. Armstrong, had been daughters of an Oxford tutor, and had become immersed in public affairs early in life. While the elder became a famous novelist and leader of "cultured doubt," the younger had remained unmarried and thrown herself with great eagerness into the movement which had for its object the strengthening of woman's position and the lightening of her burdens, no less in England than over the whole world.
The "World's Woman's League" was a great un-
