“No; I understand your sister. Her motives are of the best. We shall only consider what is best for the child.” At noon Hilary telephoned that she would not be home, for “they” were practicing the Commencement music and one of the girls whose accompaniment she was to play lived near the school building and had invited her there for lunch. At the Lancaster’s supper hour Hilary had not arrived, but came in before the family had left the table. “Excuse me, folks,” she said, as she sat down, unfolded her napkin, and leaned back in her chair in an attitude of pretended collapse. “All in?” asked Gordon. “She’s all in and down and out,” put in Tommy, delighted to try the slang at home. Dr. Lancaster looked at his wife and said: “Tell us what you have been doing today, Hilary.” “The usual things, of course, at school. Then we practiced the Commencement music at noon and again after school. On the way home, Miss Bird stopped me first to see if I would take charge of the King’s Heralds for a few meetings,—she is going away for a vacation. Next, Jim Randall called across the street that I would have to lead League next Sunday. One of the leaders has gone away and they have to move the program up, the Leaders, I mean. Then Myrtle came along and told me that the Sunday-school orchestra meets tonight, here if we can have it.” “Take them over to the church, Hilary; the official board meets here,” said Dr. Lancaster. “And when I was about half way home Miss Brown stopped me to give me back some themes,—said they were good—and while she was talking who should come along but Professor Morton, wanting somebody to fill a gap in the choir Sunday.” “Going to do it all?” asked Tommy. “O, yes, I couldn’t think of any excuse.” “And examinations coming on,” suggested her father. “O, no; I get out of them all. You always do if your grades are high enough.” At this remark Tommy grew very red, but kept quite still, while Gordon winked at June. Poor Tommy was the only one of the children not excused from examination, and while his grades were not low, he felt much disgraced. Another year would probably find young Thomas taking his studies more seriously. “And what do you do after orchestra practice tonight?” inquired Dr. Lancaster. “Well, I get my last Caesar lesson,—hurrah!—and I thought I might begin to copy your article for you, Father, unless Mother wants me to do something else.” “No typewriting tonight, daughter, both for your sake and that of the official board.” “Eat your supper, dear child,” said Mrs. Lancaster. “Aren’t these the finest strawberries? Mr. Short brought them in from the country this morning,—his choicest berries!” “Sometimes it does pay to be the minister’s family, doesn’t it?” laughed Hilary. “And your grand cake! How could you bake it when it was so hot?” “Another donation, my dear; that is Mrs. Blake’s cake.” “Ours now,” put in Gordon between bites.