Next morning, when Hetty brought in the breakfast, she found that Marjorie had changed her seat at the table to the place opposite her father, that had been vacant ever since they moved into the new house, and was pouring out the coffee for him and Jack, as her mother used to do. Marjorie watched her father closely to see if he noticed the change. At first he appeared oblivious to any difference in the usual arrangement, and, turning to Hetty, after tasting his coffee, he said, "Hetty, haven't you forgotten the sugar?" Marjorie's face grew crimson with mortification, and, as she caught Jack's wink, and marked the appreciating smack of his lips, she realized that in her excitement she had put her father's sugar in Jack's cup. "Sure 'n' Miss Marjorie's pouring the coffee this morning; I dunno," replied Hetty. Mr. Mason looked up, with a smile, and said, "Well, take this cup to her, and see if she isn't putting sugar in, too." Hetty did his bidding with a self-satisfied air, and Marjorie meekly dropped in the missing lumps. "Very nice indeed," was Mr. Mason's comment, as he tasted his coffee again, "even if it was prepared on the instalment plan." And Marjorie felt that her first effort had not been altogether a failure after all. That evening when he came home and went to his room he found his frock-coat neatly brushed and laid on the bed. In an absent-minded manner he hung it up in the closet, and went down to dinner in his business suit. Marjorie sat opposite him and served the soup. Presently Mr. Mason took an evening paper out of his pocket and began reading. Marjorie addressed one or two questions to her father; but though he looked up brightly for a moment and answered her, he soon turned again to his paper, and appeared to be absorbed in its contents. "What are you reading about, father?" she finally ventured to ask. But his reply was not conducive to further conversation, "Silver." "Silence is golden," said Jack to his sister, in an undertone. Next evening when Mr. Mason came home Marjorie asked him if he would let her see the evening paper. Her father seemed a little surprised, and handed it to her. Then he went up stairs before dinner and saw his coat laid out again, and smiled, and put it on. They had scarcely sat down when Jack produced a newspaper and began to read it. "Jack," said Marjorie, "don't read the paper at the table; it isn't polite." Jack put the paper away, and Marjorie began to ask her father questions about what sort of a day he had had downtown, and told him how Jack had been selected to play on the school football team, and asked him to explain some points in her history lesson that were not quite clear in her mind. Marjorie was pleased to see that her father took a great deal more interest in what she and Jack were doing, and after that the dinner hour was the brightest and happiest in the day for Marjorie.