ay. Then
I learned games, but not as a child learns them; they were serious
problems, to be thought out because I had formed the habit of thinking.
While I was away at school I felt older than the other girls there, and
I wasn't interested in what interested them; that gave me a chance to
think some more. Then I came home, and you gave me that wonderful
coming-out party! It was after that I disappointed you most, wasn't it,
Momsie? I couldn't live the life the other debutantes did--talking silly
nonsense until early morning with men who hadn't any sense at all,
rushing to _thes dansants_ smoking cigarettes, and all that sort of
thing."

"I never knew that you did smoke cigarettes," Marian said severely.

"I don't suppose the mothers of the other girls knew it either; it was
the secrecy which made it sporty and gave the smoking its only interest.
I couldn't stand it, Momsie! I had to be doing something worth while!
Finally you let me have my own way, very much against your will, and
since then I've been a tomboy, as you say. Father gave in on the boat,
and I've spent hours in her, all by myself, trying to find out what the
things worth while are. I haven't been very successful yet, Momsie, but
I do know that it is a waste of time to fool around with boys like Ted
Erskine when one may find a chance to talk with a real man like Mr.
Huntington."

"Mr. Hamlen is a real man, too, Merry. If you knew something of life--"

"It's because I know too much of life, and understand too little. Mr.
Huntington has helped me to understand."

"I had hoped that by being so much with him, you would be the more
prepared to appreciate Mr. Hamlen," Mrs. Thatcher said.

"I wish I might have been more with you, dearie."

Marian looked up quickly. "What do you mean by that?" she demanded.
"Haven't I given all my leisure to my family?"

"You have had so very little leisure, Momsie."

"I have had my own interests, of course--"

"I'm not criticising you, dearie," Merry hastened to interpose; "I'm
only trying to explain myself to you."

"I have done my best to prepare my children for the life they would
naturally enter--"

"Isn't life what we live every day, Momsie? It isn't all made up of
worldly things, is it?"

"Upon my word!" Marian cried. "One would think that I had entirely
neglected my family!"

"No, Momsie; you have been most ambitious for us, and have made sure
that we could have everything you thought we ought to have. Tru