Richard hastily summoned his Latin, but the verb bothered him for a minute. "_This do_," he presently evolved. "Well, I should say I came pretty near it." "What's yours?" the boy now inquired. "My family motto? I believe it is _Crux mihi ancora_; but that doesn't just suit me, so I've adopted one of my own"--he looked straight at Roberta--"_Dum vivimus, vivamus_. Isn't that a pleasanter one in this workaday world?" Ted was struggling hard, but his two months' experience with the rudiments of Latin would not serve him. "What do they mean?" he asked eagerly. "The second one means," said Roberta, with her arm about the slim young shoulders, "'While we live, let us live--well.'" Her eyes met Richard's with a shade of defiance in them. "Thank you," said he. "Do you expect me to adopt the amendment?" "Why not?" "Even you--take cross-country runs." She nodded. "And am all the better teacher for them next day." He laughed. "I should like to take one with you some time," said he. He saw Judge Gray coming toward them. "I wonder if I'm likely ever to have the chance," he added hurriedly. "_You_ take a cross-country run when you could have a sixty-mile spin in that motor-car of yours instead?" "I couldn't go cross-country in that. You see I've been by the beaten track so much I should like to try exploring something new." He was eager to say more, but Judge Gray, coming up to them, laid an affectionate hand on his niece's shoulder. "She doesn't look the part she plays by day, does she?" he said to Richard. "Curious, how times have changed. In my day a teacher looked a teacher every minute of her time. One stood in awe of her--or him--particularly of her. A prim, stuff gown, hair parted in the middle and drawn smoothly away"--his glance wandered from Roberta's ivory neck to the dusky masses of her hair--"spectacles, more than likely--with steel bows. And a manner--ye gods--the manner! How we were impressed by it! Well, well! Fine women they were and true to their profession. These modern girls who look younger than their pupils--" He shook his head with an air of being quite in despair about them. "Uncle Calvin," said Roberta, demurely, with her hand upon his arm, "do tell Mr. Kendrick about your teaching school 'across the river' when you were only sixteen years old." And, of course, that settled the chance of Richard's hearing anything about Roberta's teaching, for, though Judge Gray was called out of the room in the midst of his story, Stephen and Louis came up and joined the group and switched the talk a thousand miles away from schools and school-teaching. Presently there was music again, and this time Richard found himself sitting beside young Mrs. Stephen Gray. Between numbers he found questions to ask, which she answered with evident pleasure. "These three must have been playing together a good many years?" "Dear me, yes--ever since they were born, I think. They do make real harmony, don't they?"