tic. To get into college you have to know algebra,
don't you?"

"Yes; I think they require that," Sylvia replied, on guard against a
display of too much knowledge.

"Do you know algebra?" demanded Marian.

"Sometimes I think I don't!"

"Well, there's no doubt about me! I'm sure I don't. It's perfectly
horrid."

The entrance of Mrs. Owen and the return of Professor Kelton terminated
these confidences. The four were soon at the luncheon table, where the
array of crystal and silver seemed magnificent to Sylvia's unaccustomed
eyes. She had supposed that luncheon meant some such simple meal as the
suppers she had been used to at home; but it included fried chicken and
cold ham, and there were several vegetables; and hot biscuits and hot
corn bread; and it became necessary for Sylvia to decline an endless
succession of preserves and jellies. For dessert there were the most
fragrant red raspberries conceivable, with golden sponge cake. The
colored man who served the table seemed to enjoy himself immensely. He
condescended to make suggestions as he moved about. "A little mo' of the
cold ham, Cap'n?" or, "I 'membah you like the sparrograss, Mis' Marian,"
he murmured. "The co'n bread's extra fine, Mis'"--to Sylvia. "The hossis
is awdahed for three, Mis' Sally"--to Mrs. Owen.

"You still have Kentucky cooking, Sally," remarked Professor Kelton, who
had praised the corn bread.

"I do, Andrew," replied the old lady; "everybody knows that the best
things in Indiana came through Kentucky. That includes you and me!"

Prompted by Mrs. Owen's friendly questioning, Sylvia found herself
talking. She felt that she was talking more than Marian; but she was
much less troubled by this than by Marian's sophisticated manner of
lifting her asparagus stalks with her fingers, while Sylvia resorted to
the fork. But Sylvia comforted herself with the reflection that this was
all in keeping with Marian Bassett's general superiority. Marian
conducted herself with the most mature air, and she made it quite
necessary for Professor Kelton to defend the Navy against her assertion
that the Army was much more useful to the country. The unhurried meal
passed, and after they had returned to the drawing-room Marian left to
meet her mother at the dressmaker's and return with her to Fraserville.

"I hope to see you again," said Marian, shaking hands with Sylvia.

"I hope so, too," Sylvia replied.

CHAPTER III

A SMALL DINNER AT MRS. OWEN'S