"What's the modern way of dealing with that situation?" Edward asked when Miss Merriam re-appeared with Elisabeth under one arm. "Do you mean ought she to be punished? Why should she? She was only following out her instinct to learn. How could she know that that was a time and place where it would inconvenience somebody else if she did? I'm the one to be punished for letting her have the opportunity." "I suppose that's true. She'd never learn much if she didn't investigate, would she? And, as you say, she isn't yet conscious that she has any especial duty toward any one else's comfort." "The Misses Clark are always saying 'No, no,' to her. I should think she'd think of their house as 'No, no Castle'." "They love her, though," defended Ethel Brown. "That's why I let her go there. A baby knows when she's loved and those two old ladies make her feel it even above the 'No, Nos'." "I went in there yesterday when I saw Elisabeth's carriage outside their door," said Ethel, "and I found the older Miss Clark sitting on the floor clapping her hands and the baby trying to dance and sitting down, bang, every four or five steps." Elisabeth was in a coquettish mood and played like a kitten with Edward. "She is the very sweetest thing I ever saw!" exclaimed Ethel Brown. "I do wish I could take her to Washington." "Take her to Washington! What on earth do you mean?" asked Miss Merriam. "Nothing, only I hate to go away from her for even a few days. I came over to tell Dorothy that Grandfather Emerson is going to send us all to Washington with Mr. Wheeler's party for Washington's Birthday. Do you think Aunt Louise will let her go?" "I think it will depend on who are going." "There'll be lots of older people and teachers from our church and both the other churches, too." "Any of your mother's particular friends?" "I shouldn't be a bit surprised if Grandmother and Grandfather went themselves." "Then your mother won't have any objection." "That would settle the question for Dorothy, too, I should think," said Edward. "Are you taking outsiders along?" "Outsiders?" "New Yorkers. Della and Tom, for instance?" "Oh, is there any chance of Mrs. Watkins's letting them go?" "I'll suggest it if you think they'd be welcome." "I don't see why they wouldn't be. Mr. Wheeler wants to have as many as possible because the more there are the better rates he can make with the railroad and at the hotel." "Why don't you stir up the Hancock's?" "The whole U. S. C.? Why not? It would be just too glorious," and Ethel proceeded to dance her butterfly dance around the room. "Talk it over this evening," advised Edward, taking up his hat. "Going?" inquired Ethel. "I might as well--I mean, I must go, thank you," responded the doctor automatically, for she had said nothing to be thanked for. It was a charming table around which the Club seated itself at the Watkinses'. Mr. and Mrs. Watkins sat at the head and foot and Della and Tom in the center of the sides.