Mrs. Enderby, who had been aroused from her nap just in time to hear Barbara’s ringing close, rose to the occasion. To her a question was a question. “Miss Barbara,” she inquired, an interested expression on her rested face, “do you believe in children going barefoot this hot weather?” Barbara looked surprised. “W-why, n-no,” she said. “Oh,” said Mrs. Enderby, conversationally, “I was wondering.” There was another pause. Then Mrs. Bellows rose in her place. “Did I understand you to say _Kreysh_?” “Yes,” said Barbara. “A day-nursery would be the first form of philanthropy I should advise for Auburn.” “What need, if I may ask,” inquired Mrs. Bellows, impressively, “has Auburn for a day-nursery?” Barbara explained the relief to the mother and the good to the child. “It seems to me,” remarked Mrs. Bellows, “that a Kretch is about as necessary here as two tails to a cat. If there’s a death or sickness in the family, I send the children over to Lib’s. Otherwise, I’d rather have them at home. They gad enough as it is.” “Do you mean that the mothers are to take turns in taking care of all the children in town?” asked Mrs. Penfold. “My goodness!” murmured Mrs. Enderby. “It saves the children from the moving-picture shows and the cheap theatres that are among the most pernicious of evil influences,” said Barbara. “It keeps them off the street and out of bad company”— “Not if she lets that Charles attend,” whispered Mrs. Bellows to the woman in the next chair. “I’ve forbidden Sydney to play with him.” “And gives the mothers a vacation. Instead of the care of their little ones every day, they have charge of them possibly two afternoons a summer.” “I’d hate to trust my boys to Bertha Enderby,” whispered Mrs. Bellows again. In the discussion that followed, Barbara offered her most convincing inducement. “I’m not a mother,” she said, “but I am willing to do my part toward furthering the work. If I can have coöperation in the establishment of the nursery, I’ll give my time, in turn, to it. And I think—I’m not certain about it, but I think I may be able to furnish the room for the purpose.” The novelty of the idea carried the day with the younger members of the club, and when Barbara took her place again, the seed of the enterprise had been planted. But her second mission to the Association met with less favorable result. The suggestion for the change of name met with decided opposition. “It doesn’t seem ladylike to call it _Woman’s_ Club,” objected Mrs. Angie Bankson. “The name has been good enough for us for thirty years,” said Mrs. Bellows, with acerbity. “A. L. L. A. makes such a good monogram,” sighed Miss Lillie Beckett, who designed the programs for the club on state occasions. Mrs. Enderby’s sleep had filled her with good-will toward the world, and she amiably proposed a compromise. “Why not keep our old initials,” she said, “and take another name, each word beginning with the same letter as the old one?”