For this purpose Zobel chose a private and somewhat religious school conducted by an aged German spinster of the name of Elizabeth Hohstauffer, who had succeeded after years and years of teaching in impressing her merits as a mentor on perhaps as many as a hundred German families of the area. No contact with the careless and shameless public school here. And once the child had been inducted into that, there followed a series of daily inquiries and directions intended to guide her in the path she was to follow. “Hurry! You have only ten minutes now in which to get to school. There is no time to lose!”... “How comes it that you are five minutes late to-night? What were you doing?”... “Your teacher made you stay? You had to stop and look for a blank book?”... “Why didn’t you come home first and let me look for it with you afterwards?” (It was her stepmother talking.) “You know your father doesn’t want you to stay after school.”... “And just what were you doing on Warren Avenue between twelve and one to-day? Your father said you were with some girl.”... “Vilma Balet? And who is Vilma Balet? Where does she live? And how long has it been that you have been going with her? Why is it that you have not mentioned her before? You know what your father’s rule is. And now I shall have to tell him. He will be angry. You must obey his rules. You are by no means old enough to decide for yourself. You have heard him say that.” Notwithstanding all this, Ida, though none too daring or aggressive mentally, was being imaginatively drawn to the very gayeties and pleasures that require courage and daring. She lived in a mental world made up of the bright lights of Warren Avenue, of which she caught an occasional glimpse. The numerous cars speeding by! The movies and her favorite photographs of actors and actresses, some of the mannerisms of whom the girls imitated at school. The voices, the laughter of the boys and girls as they walked to and fro along the commonplace thoroughfare with its street-cars and endless stores side by side! And what triumphs or prospective joys they planned and palavered over as they strolled along in their easy manner—arms linked and bodies swaying—up the street and around the corner and back into the main street again, gazing at their graceful ankles and bodies in the mirrors and windows as they passed, or casting shy glances at the boys.