Sophie Switsky was in the conflict still, battling with the oppression that centered about her whirring machine. Kathleen was in it, demanding sunshine and health for the many in poverty. But if Hertha Williams married a Georgia cracker she left her conflict, turned from the battlefield into a place of quiet and safety. Ellen had predicted that when her sister went into the white world she would never join in the coarse abuse of the colored race; but if she married Dick she tacitly linked herself to these cruel lies. She abhorred the thought, and yet, all the morning, on her way to work and seated in the ill-ventilated classroom, she found the major's advice buzzing through her head, "Keep out of the conflict! Keep out of the conflict!" In the afternoon, walking in the park with Bob, a new idea occurred to her. Why not, when school was over, try for a position as nursery governess? Such a place would be a grade above anything open to Hertha Williams, since as a governess she would not be a servant but would be received at her mistress's table. Loving children, inclining, too, to an outdoor life, she might in this way secure a summer in the country and postpone her final decision. Tom's comfortable advice to take her time remained with her, offering encouragement to this new plan. But the difficulty in the way of securing a position, the unfamiliar machinery of employment bureau, of advertisement, made her hesitate. It would mean publicity, the answering of questions, the entering of a new and perhaps unfriendly home. She who hated change ought not to have to make her way in an unfamiliar environment so soon again. "Tell me about Tom-of-the-Woods," Bob demanded after she had been silent for many minutes. "No," Hertha answered. "Aw, come on," Bob said. "Tell about the night with the owl." "Not now!" "Aw, come on. That's the part I like best. I bet he could see in the dark like a cat. Couldn't he now? Couldn't he see everything just the same, night or day?" "There are the ducks!" Hertha cried, and hurried him to where the birds paddled in the lake and gave entertainment enough to push Tom-of-the-Woods into Bob's limbo of forgetfulness if not into hers. The week went wearily on. The warm days were conducive to idleness and in her discouragement Hertha worked erratically, studying far into the evening one night to drop her books entirely the next. On Thursday as she sat in her room looking idly at the sunset light as it faded from the sky, Mrs. Pickens knocked at the door. "May I come in?" she asked. "Don't make a light," as Hertha having given her a seat started to strike a match; "it's pleasant to talk in the dark." The two sat near one another looking into the trees. "I'm thinking of a plan for the summer." Hertha was the first to break the silence. "Not one that would mean leaving here, I hope?" "It would mean leaving here. If I needed it would you give me a recommendation as a nursery governess?"