"Hum, yes," said Treasure thoughtfully. "You talk her into it, father. It would break up the class to lose her." "What is the trouble, anyhow? Has anything gone wrong? If there has been any mix-up, you ought to know it." "The girls are just crazy about her, and we have the best record for attendance in the whole school. I suppose she is giving up the class on account of me." "On account of you!" This was unanimously exclamatory. Rosalie was always problematic, and Zee was a living fount of mischief, even Doris was given to moods and fancies. But Treasure was the serene untarnished blessing of the family, always gentle, always friendly, tranquil and undisturbed. Could Treasure, the sweet, cause agony to any young shepherdess of the Sunday-school flock? The exclamation was followed by silence, long and profound. "D--on't you like her?" asked Doris at last, in a weak voice. "I love her with all my heart." "Do you cut up in Sunday-school, Treasure?" asked Zee. "I am surprised. Miss Conroy has to shake her head at me sometimes--but I certainly am ashamed of you. I--I didn't think it." "Of course I do not cut up in Sunday-school. I am surprised you would even mention such a thing." "Well, go on, Treasure, and tell us," said Rosalie impatiently. "You are the last person in the world one would suspect of disrupting a religious organization." "Yes, go on and tell it, pet," said her father gently. "And talk fast, Treasure. You are so poky. I could tell six volumes while you get into the introduction." "There isn't any introduction to it," said Treasure in her gentle voice. "You know, father, when you go over the lesson with us on Saturday night, you bring out a lot of good points that Miss Munsing does not think of." "Yes." "Of course, it would not be right for me to speak up and tell things she does not know--it would sound smarty--as if I were trying to show off. So I just ask questions, and sometimes she does not know the answers. Then the whole class gets into a discussion, and then I say, 'Maybe it is this way,' and I tell what you have said, and she says, 'Yes, that is it, of course.' And sometimes I think of questions that nobody has explained, and I ask--and she can't answer. This morning she got rather red, and looked nervous. But she is a dear thing, and I don't expect her to know as much as a preacher, of course. And I hope you will make her keep the class, for we could never get another teacher like her. I am truly sorry, father, and I will promise never to ask another question." Doris flushed suddenly. "But--she ought to be free to ask questions, father. Miss Munsing should study the lessons more, and find the answers." "I suppose it is not just pleasant for a teacher to have her scholars wiser than she," said their father slowly. "I can see how she feels about it." "But she ought to study more," insisted Doris.