The first function at which Margaret assisted in the long drawing-rooms of the Arbusers was a serious one—­one that combined the charm of culture with the temptations of benevolence.  The rooms were crowded with the fashion of the town, with a sprinkling of clergymen and of thin philanthropic gentlemen in advanced years.  It was a four-o’clock, and the assembly had the cheerfulness of a reception, only that the display of toilets was felt to be sanctified by a purpose.  The performance opened with a tremendous prelude on the piano by Herr Bloomgarten, who had been Liszt’s favorite pupil; indeed, it was whispered that Liszt had said that, old as he was, he never heard Bloomgarten without learning something.  There was a good deal of subdued conversation while the pianist was in his extreme agony of execution, and a hush of extreme admiration—­it was divine, divine, ravishing—­when he had finished.  The speaker was a learned female pundit from India, and her object was to interest the women of America in the condition of their unfortunate Hindoo sisters.  It appeared that thousands and tens of thousands of them were doomed to early and lifelong widowhood, owing to the operation of cruel caste laws, which condemned even girls betrothed to deceased Brahmins to perpetual celibacy.  This fate could only be alleviated by the education and elevation of women.  And money was needed for schools, especially for medical schools, which would break down the walls of prejudice and enfranchise the sex.  The appeal was so charmingly made that every one was moved by it, especially the maiden ladies present, who might be supposed to enter into the feelings of their dusky sisters beyond the seas.  The speaker said, with a touch of humor that always intensifies a serious discourse, that she had been told that in one of the New England States there was a superfluity of unmarried women; but this was an entirely different affair; it was a matter of choice with these highly educated and accomplished women.  And the day had come when woman could make her choice!  At this there was a great clapping of hands.  It was one thing to be free to lead a life of single self-culture, and quite another to be compelled to lead a single fife without self-culture.  The address was a great success, and much enthusiasm spread abroad for the cause of the unmarried women of India.

In the audience were Mrs. Eschelle and her daughter.  Margaret and Carmen were made acquainted, and were drawn together by curiosity, and perhaps by a secret feeling of repulsion.  Carmen was all candor and sweetness, and absorbingly interested in the women of India, she said.  With Margaret’s permission she would come and see her, for she believed they had common friends.