Gratified by my exclamation of pleased surprise, Mrs. Bossman told me that she had selected the room because it was next her own and convenient to the bathroom, shared by herself and Miss Pugh, the assistant matron. Miss Pugh, she explained, was an old friend whom she had induced to give up her former position in a large foundling asylum to come to St. Rose. She, Miss Pugh, was a wonderful disciplinarian, and as chockful of ideas as an egg with meat. With her as her assistant, and me as her secretary, Mrs. Bossman declared that she felt her success assured. She had been in charge of St. Rose, I then learned, less than two months. Previous to coming there she had, for many years, been at the head of a reformatory. Chatting about odds and ends, Mrs. Bossman waited while I removed my coat and hat, and brushed my hair a bit. Just as I turned away from the mirror there was a quick rap on the door, and without waiting for a reply in stepped a little woman whose head reminded me sharply of a hickory-nut doll. “My dear!” she cried, grabbing hold of my hand. “Three educated women!” She indicated herself, Mrs. Bossman, and me. “We can stand against the world.” Just what call we would have to stand against the world I did not understand. Being ready to do my best as secretary to the matron of St. Rose, I graciously accepted her greeting and the compliments that appeared to belong to it. Walking between the two I passed down the broad stairs and into the private office of the head of the institution. Confidently expecting to spend the summer in this charming place I glanced about the room that was to be my headquarters. Like every part of the house that I had seen, this room was spotlessly clean and furnished tastefully. Sprays of ivy moved by the breeze peeked in at the two broad windows that, opening on the street, were shaded from the direct rays of the sun by the low-sweeping limbs of the elm. From the windows my eyes travelled to the walls. I met the gaze of several bewhiskered gentlemen of solemn countenance in clerical garb and black frames. My secretarial duties, as then outlined to me, would consume about two hours each morning, excepting Sundays. Once I had finished this daily stint my time was to be my own to do with as I preferred. “Only,” Mrs. Bossman added smilingly, “Miss Pugh and I both hope that you will spend at least a few evenings with us in my private sitting-room.” Why did Mrs. Davis’ caution against blonde women keep bobbing up in my mind? Ah, why indeed! Being in my room when the lunch-bell sounded, I was a fraction of a minute late entering the dining-room. A woman whom I had never seen met me and introduced herself as the housekeeper. She gave me as my permanent place a chair at a long table about which there were already seated eighteen women.