pleased about it.

"It really doesn't make any difference," Lark said. "We've had one year
in college, we can get along without any more. Or maybe father would let
us borrow the money and stay at the dorm. And Connie's so far along now
that she's all right. Any good high school will do for her. It doesn't
make any difference at all."

"No, we're so nearly grown up that one place will do just as well as
another," agreed Carol unconcernedly.

"I'm rather anxious to move, myself," said Connie. "I'm afraid some of
the ladies might carry out their designs on father. They've had five
years of practise now, you know."

"Don't be silly, Con. Isn't Aunt Grace here on purpose to chaperon him
and keep the ladies off? I'd hate to go to New London, or Mediapolis,
or--but after all it doesn't make a bit of difference."

Just the same, on Wednesday evening, the girls sat silent, with
intensely flushed faces and painfully shining eyes, watching the clock,
listening for the footstep. They had deliberately remained away from the
station. They thought they could face it better within the friendly
walls of the parsonage. It was all settled now, father knew where they
were going. Oh, why hadn't he wired? It must be terribly bad then, he
evidently wanted to break it to them gently.

Maybe it was a circuit! There was the whistle now! Only a few minutes
now. Suppose his salary were cut down,--good-by to silk stockings and
kid gloves,--cheap, but kid, just the same! Suppose the parsonage would
be old-fashioned! Suppose there wasn't any parsonage at all, and they
would have to pay rent! Sup--Then the door slammed.

Carol and Lark picked up their darning, and Connie bent earnestly over
her magazine. Aunt Grace covered a yawn with her slender fingers and
looked out of the window.

"Hello!"

"Why, hello, papa! Back already?"

They dropped darning and magazine and flew to welcome him home.

"Come and sit down!" "My, it seemed a long time!" "We had lots of fun,
father." "Was it a nice conference?" "Mr. James sent us two bushels of
potatoes!" "We're going to have chicken to-morrow--the Ladies' Aiders
sent it with their farewell love." "Wasn't it a dandy day?"

"Well, it's all settled."

"Yes, we supposed it would be. Was the conference good? We read accounts
of it every day, and acted stuck-up when it said nice things about
you."

"We are to--"

"Ju-just a minute, father," interrupted Connie anxiously. "We don't care
a snap where