“I know you do, dear. And I love _you_, so much that I want you to like yourself. Don’t think about how you look; you’re always pretty when you’re merry. Let’s go in and shampoo that head of yours. You won’t mind it short during this hot weather, and it will probably grow in thicker and darker because of this cutting.” The half-ironed waist had dried when they returned to the house, and Barbara, as she re-sprinkled the garment and laid it back in the ironing basket, was reminded of her frequent admonitions to her mother about “systematizing the housework.” “A mother is a composite of cook, laundress, seamstress, waitress, nurse, and kindergartner,” she said to herself. “And yet that isn’t what keeps her busiest; it’s the unforeseen happenings, and the interruptions, that eat up the time. I don’t wonder she never finished her work. What next, I’d like to know?” Her wish was soon gratified by the appearance of Jack at the door. “Gee whiz! but this day is a scorcher,” said the boy, mopping his forehead with his handkerchief, as he threw himself upon the lounge in the next room. “It is ninety in the shade in the yard,—that is, it would be if there was any shade to get under. If I ever said anything derogatory unto the snow-shovel, I take it all back. Here’s a letter, Barb; mail-man left it.” Barbara, reaching for the envelope, stumbled over the prostrate form of David, who lay on his stomach on the floor, reading his well-worn copy of the “Greek Heroes.” “Goodness, David, do get out of the way! There isn’t room to step in this house when you lie on the floor. And please don’t read aloud until I finish this letter.” She tore open the envelope, and her eyes eagerly ran over the words, as her mind hungrily took them up:— VASSAR COLLEGE, August 6, 1907. MY DEAR MISS GRAFTON,—It gives us much pleasure to notify you that the Eastman Scholarship will fall into your hands this year. Miss Culver, who ranked slightly above you in the competitive examination, writes us that circumstances make it impossible for her to enjoy its advantages. You, as second in rank of scholarship, fall heir to her place and her honors. We heartily congratulate you upon the attainment of what you so richly deserve, and beg that you will notify us of your acceptance this week. It is so late in the season now that an immediate decision is necessary. Cordially yours, Eastman Scholarship Committee, E. C. BEDFORD, _Chairman_. Jack, glancing up from the lounge, caught a glimpse of Barbara’s face, “What’s the matter? Is mother worse?” he demanded, sitting bolt upright on the sofa. “No,—oh, no. It’s just a letter from college,” said Barbara. She got up from her chair suddenly, and made her way back to the kitchen.