Carey lifted wondering eyes, and his scowl faded while he studied his pretty sister’s guileless face thoughtfully. The attention was diverted from him, and his anger was cooling; but somehow he began to feel deep in his soul that it was really he that had been selfish. All their scolding and nagging hadn’t made him in the least conscious of it; but this new, old, dear, pretty sister taking the blame on herself seemed to throw a new light on his own doings. Of course it was merely momentary, and made no very deep impression; but still the idea had come, and would never be quite driven away again. The supper was a success from every point of view. The pot-roast was as tender as cheese; the mashed potatoes melted under the gravy like snow before the summer sun, and were enjoyed with audible praise; and the waffles sizzled and baked and disappeared, and more took their places, until at last the batter was all gone. “Well, I couldn’t hold another one,” said Carey, “but they certainly were jim-dandies. Say, you haven’t forgotten how to cook, Nell!” and he cast a look of deep admiration toward his sister. Cornelia, so tired she could hardly get up out of her chair after she dropped into it, lifted a bravely smiling face, and realized that she had scored a point. Carey had liked the supper and was over his grouch. The first night had been ushered in greatly. She was just wondering whether she dared suggest that he help wash the dishes when he suddenly jerked out his watch, glanced at it, and shoved his chair back noisily. “Gee! I’ve gotta beat it,” he said hurriedly as he strode to the hall door. “I’ve gotta date!” and before the family had drawn the one quick, startled, aghast breath of disappointment and tried to think of some way to detain him, or find out where he was going, or when he was coming back, he had slammed the front door behind him. The father had an ashen-gray, helpless look; Louise’s mouth drooped at the corners, and there were tears in her eyes as she held up her head bravely and carried a pile of plates out to the kitchen, while Harry with an ugly sneer on his young lips shoved his chair back, noisily murmuring: “Aw, gee! Gotta date! Always gotta date! When I grow up, I’ll see if I always have to have a date!” Then he snatched an armful of dishes, and strode to the kitchen, grumbling in an undertone all the way. Cornelia cast a quick, apprehensive look at her father, and said cheerily: “Oh, never mind. Of course young men have dates; and when you’ve promised, you know it isn’t easy to change. Come, let’s get these dishes out of the way quickly; and then we can sit down and talk. It’s great to all be together again, isn’t it? Father, dear, how long do you suppose it will be before mother is well? Have you had a letter today?” The father beamed at her again, and, putting his hand in his pocket, drew out an official-looking envelope.