“But the cases are not analogous,” said Junior. “In the back of my head I am pretty well convinced that the clothing that Edith Williams always has worn has cost more money than has been spent on you. That has not been the case with any boy of Ashwater. Father always has seen to it that I had the best. Where you have consistently gotten away with Edith has been through being so much handsomer, through being lovely to every one, and through the exercise of a degree of taste and ingenuity on the part of your mother and yourself, that no other women of this flourishing burg can equal. I haven’t a doubt but you’ll be the loveliest thing in the building the night of Commencement, but I just thought I’d come around and give you a hint of what you’re up against.” “Now that’s nice of you,” laughed Mahala, “but you haven’t told me a thing that I didn’t know and for which I was not prepared. Probably your mother didn’t say, but I’d be willing to wager that Edith’s gown will be either of velvet or heavy satin, and a crowded room in Ashwater grows distressingly warm in June.” Junior threw back his head and laughed heartily. “Bully for you!” he said admiringly. “I’ll back you for a winner in any undertaking in which you want to engage. It would be downright mean of me to go any further with what Mother told me after she had seen Edith’s dress, but I’ll say you are a winner in drawing nice deductions.” And then Junior realized that he had not had such an enjoyable and friendly talk with Mahala, that she had not been so cordial with him, in he could not remember when. So he ventured further. “What can we plan for this summer that will be a lot of fun?” he said. “We ought to celebrate this getting through with school by picnics and parties and excursions. It’s our time to have fun, and who’s to object to our going ahead and having it?” “Aren’t you going to college, Junior?” asked Mahala. “Going to college?” repeated Junior scornfully. “Why would I go to college? Which college does my father hold in the hollow of his hand? Where could he pull the strings and make the professors dance like a pack of marionettes?” Mahala stared at him wide eyed, and at the same time she was amazed to find herself commending his candour. “Well, you certainly have nerve,” she said. “Of course everybody knows the influence your father always has had with the School Board, and from the time we’ve been little children we’ve had demonstrated to us what your combined efforts could do, but I didn’t think you’d sit up and boast about it—openly admit it!”