ome elusive something was holding back the sewing class from the mark which Mrs. Barrington had set for it.
That mark, as all who knew Mrs. Barrington could easily guess, was preëminence among the many activities of the settlement house. Preëminence absolute and acknowledged. She had accepted the post of chairman only because Mrs. Whitman Russell had asked her. Mrs. Russell was one of those whose invitations are not refused.
But the class almost maliciously refused to prosper. Some perversity haunted it. Some spirit of ingratitude among these foreign women whom she was trying to help.
Sitting alone in the white-walled room, from which her slender gathering had just been dismissed, Mrs. Barrington reviewed the problem. Being anxious, she was half-angry. Being half-angry, she thought swiftly.
Like a trained tactician in social matters, she knew that for every effect there was a cause, and that in most cases the cause was some form of personal prejudice.
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