Wellesley and Vassar became involved in the same delightful mystery. Woman’s curiosity in her chief seats of learning was put under the strain of accepting without question gifts of $2,000,000 to each institution from an unknown hand. The test or the temptation was safely borne, for no hint of even the manner in which the princely fortunes were bestowed ever reached an outsider’s ear. There were no restrictions accompanying these gifts, beyond a request in each case that they should be devoted mainly to those branches of training and study which best fitted woman for the domestic circle. Inasmuch as this suggestion was construed to admit of almost any interpretation in the field of “the higher education of woman,” it was felt to be no restriction at all. Who dared assert that a knowledge of Greek, a familiarity with the latest mysteries of astronomy, and a training in the higher mathematics did not deserve important places in the equipment of woman for the domestic circle of 1895? When it was proposed in the governing boards of the two colleges that the departments of physical training, English literature, music, and the culinary art should benefit in greater proportion than certain others under the new funds, the makers of the suggestion were frowned upon with some scorn. It was undoubtedly the intention of their unknown benefactor, so declared the more advanced spirits in the great cause of “the emancipation of woman,” that his money should be used in providing that broad culture which alone would make the woman of the twentieth century the highest development of her sex. She should have the same advantages, the same training as her brothers. In no other way could she become “best fitted for the domestic circle.” No such impetus was ever given the cause of education in America as it received in the spring of 1895 from this great series of contributions. The subject became a matter of world-wide wonder and discussion. It did not seem possible that such treasure could come all from one source, and yet no such epidemic of generosity among millionaires had ever been heard of. There were not half a dozen men in the country who could make presents of $5,000,000 checks. Speculation, and there was plenty of it, was in vain, however. The secret was well kept by all its possessors, and beyond a few hints that the eccentric distributor of millions was a New Yorker, who kept a balance of at least $5,000,000 in cash always on hand at the Chemical Bank, nothing transpired.