“Yes, but she said she wanted to see that circus car. That's what she calls Mr. Gwynne's car. And she says she wants to see the elephunts perform. There are not any elephunts. There's only Rosie and Rover. But she may get off. She can get off if she can fool her boss, she says. So we're all going down and we may bring Larry home with us, Mrs. Sleighter says. Though Mrs. Gwynne says there's not any room, they're so filled up now. And I said Larry could come here and Joe, too. But I am not so sure about Sam. I think he must be awfully queer. Mr. Gwynne thinks he's queer.” “It is quite possible, indeed probable, my dear,” assented her father. “Yes, Mr. Gwynne said he looked like a third-rate how-do-you-feel performer.” “A what, exactly?” “A how-do-you-feel performer.” “Oh, a vaudeville performer.” “Yes, a fodefeel performer. I don't know what that means, but he must be queer. But I think Larry would be all right, and Joe. You see, we know THEM.” “Oh, do we?” “Yes, certainly, Papa. Larry is Nora's brother. He's awfully clever. He's only fifteen and he passed the Entrance in Ontario and that's ever so much harder than here. He passed it before he was fourteen.” “Before he was fourteen!” replied her father. “Amazing!” “Yes, and he plays the mouth organ and the tin whistle and the fiddle, and Mr. Gwynne says he has learned some stunts from Sam. I think he must be awfully nice. So I said he could come here. And Mrs. Gwynne thanked me so nicely, and she's just lovely, Papa.” “I have not seen her,” said her father, “but I have heard her voice, and I quite agree with you. The voice always tells. Have you noticed that? The voice gives the keynote of the soul.” “I don't know, Papa. There's Mrs. Sleighter's voice. I don't like it very much, but I think she's nice inside.” “Ah, you are right, my dear. Perhaps I should have said that a certain kind of voice always goes with a beautiful soul.” “I know,” replied his daughter. “That's like Mrs. Gwynne's voice. And so we'll go down to the car and bring Larry home with us, and perhaps his mother will let him come here. She did not say she would and you can't tell. She's quiet, you know, but somehow she isn't like Mrs. Sleighter. I don't think you could coax her to do what she didn't want.” “And Mrs. Sleighter--can you coax Mrs. Sleighter?” “Oh, yes, the girls just coax her and coax her, and though she doesn't want to a bit, she just gives in.” “That's nice of her. That must be very nice for the girls, eh?” “Oh, I don't know, Papa.” “What? don't you think it is nice to be able to coax people to do what you want?” “It is nice to get what you want, but I think REALLY, REALLY, you'd rather you could not coax them to do it just because you coax them.” “Ah, I see.” “Yes; you see, you're never really quite sure after you get it whether you ought to get it after all.” “I see,” said her father; “that rather spoils it.” “Yes, but you never do that, Papa.”