it would choke 'em if it wouldn't take so long," she muttered
passionately, as she hurried in with the pitcher and glasses, ready to
serve the "slums" with her own chaste hands.

She was just serving the melting tenor when she heard her father's voice
in the hall.

"Too late," she said aloud, and with such despair in her voice that
Fairy relented and mentally promised to "see her through."

Mr. Starr's eyes twinkled freely when he saw the guests in his home, and
the gentle bishop's puzzled interest nearly sent them all off into
laughter. Fairy had no idea of the young men's names, but she said,
quickly, to spare Carol:

"We have been serenaded to-night, Doctor--you just missed it. These are
the Mount Mark troubadours. You are lucky to get here in time for the
lemonade."

But when she saw the bishop glance concernedly from the yellow fingers
to the dull eyes and the brown-streaked mouth, her gravity nearly
forsook her. The Slaughterers, already dashed to the ground by
embarrassment, were entirely routed by the presence of the bishop. With
incoherent apologies, they rose to their unsteady feet and in a cloud of
breezy odors, made their escape.

Mr. Starr laughed a little, Aunt Grace put her arm protectingly about
Carol's rigid shoulders, and the bishop said, "Well, well, well," with
gentle inquiry.

"We call them the Slaughter-house Quartette," Fairy began cheerfully.
"They are the lower strata of Mount Mark, and they make the nights
hideous with their choice selection of popular airs. The parsonage is
divided about them. Some of us think we should treat them with proud and
cold disdain. Some think we should regard them with a tender, gentle,
er--smiling pity. And evidently they appreciated the smiles for they
gave us a serenade in return for them. Aunt Grace did not know their
history, so she invited them in, thinking they were just ordinary
schoolboys. It is home mission work run aground."

The bishop nodded sympathetically. "One has to be so careful," he said.
"So extremely careful with characters like those. No doubt they meant
well by their serenade, but--girls especially have to be very careful. I
think as a rule it is safer to let men show the tender pity and women
the fine disdain. I don't imagine they would come serenading your father
and me! You carried it off beautifully, girls. I am sure your father was
proud of you. I was myself. I'm glad you are Methodists. Not many girls
so young could handle a d