Esther | Page 8

lady of the
house sat in an arm-chair before the fire in an inner room, talking with
two other ladies of the board, one of whom, with an aggressive and
superior manner, seemed finding fault with every thing except the
Middle Ages and Pericles.
"A tailor who builds a palace to live in," said she, "is a vulgar tailor,
and an artist who paints the tailor and his palace as though he were
painting a doge of Venice, is a vulgar artist."
"But, Mrs. Dyer," replied her hostess coldly, "I don't believe there was
any real difference between a doge of Venice and a doge of New York.
They all made fortunes more or less by cheating their neighbors, and

when they were rich they wanted portraits. Some one told them to send
for Mr. Tizian or Mr. Wharton, and he made of them all the gentlemen
there ever were."
Mrs. Dyer frowned a protest against this heresy. "Tizian would have
respected his art," said she; "these New York men are making money."
"For my part," said Mrs. Murray as gently as she could, "I am grateful
to any one who likes beautiful things and is willing to pay for them,
and I hope the artists will make them as beautiful as they can for the
money. The number is small."
With this she rose, and moving to the table, called her meeting to order.
The ladies seated themselves in a business-like way round about, and
listened with masculine gravity to a long written report on the work
done or needing to be done at the Children's Hospital. Debate rose on
the question of putting in a new kitchen range and renewing the
plumbing. Mrs. Dyer took the floor, or the table, very much to herself,
dealing severely with the treatment of the late kitchen range, and
bringing numerous complaints against the matron, the management and
the hospital in general. There was an evident look of weariness on the
part of the board when she began, but not until after a two hours'
session did she show signs of exhaustion and allow a vote to be taken.
The necessary work was then rapidly done, and at last Mrs. Murray,
referring in a business-like way to her notes, remarked that she had
nothing more to suggest except that Mr. Hazard, the new clergyman at
St. John's, should be elected as a member of their visiting committee.
"Do we want more figure-heads there?" asked Mrs. Dyer. "Every day
and every hour of Mr. Hazard's time ought to be devoted to his church.
What we want is workers. We have no one to look after the children's
clothes and go down into the kitchen. All our visitors are good for is to
amuse the children for half an hour now and then by telling them
stories."
Mrs. Murray explained that the election was rather a matter of custom;
that the rector of St. John's always had been a member of their
committee, and it would look like a personal slight if they left him off;

so the vote was passed and the meeting broke up. When the last echo of
rapid talk and leave-taking had ceased, Mrs. Murray sat down again
before the fire with the air of one who has tried to keep her temper and
has not thoroughly satisfied her ambition.
"Mrs. Dyer is very trying," she said to Esther who stayed after the
others went; "but there is always one such woman on every board. I
should not care except that she gives me a dreadful feeling that I am
like her. I hope I'm not, but I know I am."
"You're not, Aunt Sarah!" replied Esther. "She can stick pins faster and
deeper than a dozen such as you. What makes me unhappy is that her
spitefulness goes so deep. Her dig at me about telling stories to the
children seemed to cut me up by the roots. All I do is to tell them
stories."
"I hope she will never make herself useful in that way," rejoined Mrs.
Murray grimly. "She would frighten the poor little things into
convulsions. Don't let her worry you about usefulness. One of these
days you will have to be useful whether you like it or not, and now you
are doing enough if you are only ornamental. I know you will hold your
tongue at the board meetings, and that is real usefulness."
"Very well, aunt! I can do that. And I can go on cutting out dolls'
clothes for the children, though Mrs. Dyer will complain that my dolls
are not sufficiently dressed. I wish I did not respect people for
despising me."
"If we did not, there would be no Mrs. Dyers," answered her aunt. "She
is a terrible woman. I feel