"I'll have a lemon ice cream soda," said Suzanna primly. And she had difficulty in restraining her tears when Maizie deliberately gave her command for chocolate ice cream soda. When the orders came Suzanna scarcely touched her glass. Covertly she watched Miss Smithson; she saw, how daintily that lady ate her plain vanilla ice cream; perhaps, after all, even teachers found it necessary to find some subsistence and Miss Smithson had hit upon ice cream as the most aesthetic. At least Suzanna was forced to believe this in her endeavor to keep intact her ideal of Miss Smithson. Then Miss Smithson said in a pleasant, every-day voice: "I'm glad to have this opportunity, Mr. Procter, of asking you if Suzanna may take part in an Indian Drill I expect to give at school next month." "Why, I can see no reason against her taking part," said Mr. Procter. "You would enjoy such an occasion, would you not, Suzanna?" "She will need an outfit," Miss Smithson went on, treading delicately, since in part she guessed the state of the Procter finances and she wished to be very sure before implicating Suzanna in any embarrassing situation, "including dancing slippers, though I may be able to rent the Indian costumes from a masquerader in the city, and then the cost will be lessened." "That will be all right," said Mr. Procter immediately. "Just tell us the clothes she will need and her mother will get them." "That's very nice," said Miss Smithson, though she felt still a little uneasy. "When will the affair take place?" Mr. Procter asked. "On the fifteenth of October. We have ample time for rehearsals." A little later Miss Smithson shook hands with Suzanna's father, murmuring something conventional about his being fortunate in the possession of such an interesting family. Then she was gone. The children, bidding father good-bye, hastened on home. They burst into the house, anxious to tell mother all about the meeting with Miss Smithson. Mrs. Procter listened interestedly. "And father said I might take part in the Indian Drill," said Suzanna. "I shall have to have an outfit perhaps and dancing shoes." "What did father say about that?" asked Mrs. Procter, an anxious little frown growing between her eyes. "He said you would get them for me," Suzanna returned. She, too, looked a little anxiously at her mother. "But Miss Smithson said perhaps she could hire the Indian costumes." Mrs. Procter's expression lightened. "Well, perhaps she can," she said. "And if she can't, mother?" Suzanna breathlessly awaited the answer. "Well, we'll manage some way." And Suzanna was satisfied. A week later Mr. Procter returned home, carrying a mysterious looking parcel. "For you, Suzanna," he said, his eyes sparkling. "But let's not open it until after supper." Suzanna reluctantly put the package to one side. That supper would never end that evening she had a firm conviction.