just going up there with a lot of
other young people to have a good time. Eleanor Hubert's invited, and
three or four other society girls. I don't see why we need to be such
a lot more particular than other people. We never are when it's a
question of people being dirty, or horrid, other ways! How about
Cousin Parnelia and Mr. Reinhardt? I guess the Fiskes would laugh
at the idea of people who have as many queer folks around as we do,
thinking _they_ aren't good enough."

Professor Marshall sat down across the table from his daughter and
looked at her. His face was rather ruddier than usual and he swallowed
hard. "Why, Sylvia, the point is this. It's evident, from what your
mother tells me of Mrs. Fiske's visit, that going to this house party
means more in your case than with the other girls. Mrs. Fiske came all
the way to La Chance to invite you, and from what she said about
you and her stepson, it was evident that she and the Colonel--" He
stopped, opening his hands nervously.

"I don't know how they think they know anything about it," returned
Sylvia with dignity, though she felt an inward qualm at this news.
"Jerry's been ever so nice to me and given me a splendid time, but
that's all there is to it. Lots of fellows do that for lots of girls,
and nobody makes such a fuss about it."

Mrs. Marshall laid down her work and went to the heart of the matter.
"Sylvia, you don't _like_ Mr. Fiske?"

"Yes, I do!" said Sylvia defiantly, qualifying this statement an
instant later by, "Quite well, anyhow. Why _shouldn't_ I?"

Her mother assumed this rhetorical question to be a genuine one and
answered it accordingly. "Why, he doesn't seem at all like the type of
young man who would be liked by a girl with your tastes and training.
I shouldn't think you'd find him interesting or--"

Sylvia broke out: "Oh, you don't know how sick I get of being so
everlastingly high-brow! What's the _use_ of it? People don't think
any more of you! They think less! You don't have any better time--nor
so good! And why should you and Father always be so down on anybody
that's rich, or dresses decently? _Jerry's_ all right--if his clothes
_do_ fit!"

"Do you really _know_ him at all?" asked her father pointedly.

"Of course I do--I know he's very handsome, and awfully good-natured,
and he's given me the only good time I've had at the University. You
just don't know how ghastly last year was to me! I'm awfully grateful
to Jerry, and that's al