"They glared at me as if I had murdered their mothers! Do they always eat in dead silence like that?" Isabelle cast a glance over her shoulders to see that they were quite alone. "This is what I tried to save you from," she whispered. "You mean that's why you bundled me off this morning, and barred me out this evening?" She nodded solemnly. "The machine balked, the tire blew out, I had to come back," he apologized. "What's the matter with 'em anyhow?" "You see we have a society for the Discouragement of Visiting Parents." "What's the point?" "You see, we endure a great deal from our parents, at home, but here we are free. The minute they begin visiting us, the trouble begins. So when they come, we are pledged to act like this, and they never come again." "Nice hospitable lot of kids! And do the Benjamins stand for this?" "They don't know about it; it's a secret." "They can see, can't they? A blind man could have seen their outrageous manners," he remarked, hotly. "Parents have outrageous manners, too, you know, and we have to put up with them"--calmly. "Well, I'm----" "Don't swear, Wally; Quakers don't like it." "I never heard such nerve in my life! Lot of kids setting themselves up----" "Try to put yourself in our place, Wally. When you were at school, did you long to have your mother visit you?" "That was different----" "No, that was the same," she said, finally. "I tried to save you, but you would come back. I've enjoyed your visit very much, but it's against our rules to act kindly to visiting parents, and if I do I'll be expelled." "I suppose you'd like me to leave to-night?"--sarcastically. "No, but get off as soon as you can in the morning, and let me manage things to-night." The Benjamins joined them at this point, so conversation became general. Isabelle withdrew into her own mind, to think ahead how to avert the next crisis. When the girls came down for the hour of relaxation, there would be more embarrassment, unless she could manage. She strolled to the window and looked out. There was a brilliant full moon, showering its largesse over the hills. They looked so calm, so remote--why did humans introduce such problems into the scheme of things? questioned Isabelle precociously. But the view gave her an idea. "Mrs. Benjamin," she cried, "might we have a moonlight tramp and show my father some of our walks?" "Would thy father like that? We often go for a walk in the moonlight, Mr. Bryce. The girls like it before they go to bed. Would thee enjoy it?" Isabelle fixed him with a stern eye, and nodded. "Why, yes, I think that would be nice," said Wally, who hated walking.