ce with the world. She might have
given up to her feelings had not her roommate joined her. Mary's eyes were
a little brighter than usual. She was fairly bubbling over with
excitement.

"I've been looking almost everywhere for you, Elizabeth," she cried,
tucking her hand within Elizabeth's arm, and leading her into a small room
adjoining. "I want you to meet the best father and mother this country
ever produced."

"I've met them," responded Elizabeth. "They are in Bitumen at this
minute."

Mary laughed and gave her arm a squeeze. "You're getting on, Elizabeth. A
month ago you couldn't have made such a remark. You were too literally
literal. But as to the best parents; I have them shut up in this room."

"Not my parents," decidedly.

"I should say not. My own. Why should I be wanting anyone's else?"

They entered the room where a little group of the older guests had
gathered. Leading Elizabeth to her father and mother, "This is Elizabeth,"
Mary said. Both father and mother held out their hands to her. Elizabeth
felt that they were not strangers. They knew of her father. She was very
glad to note the tone in which all people spoke of him. Nothing was said
of his being a brilliant man, although he had been that, but all spoke of
him as a good man and doing good work.

"The liquor people are getting it strong up your way, Judge," said a
little old man in the group. "What is going to happen to our friend
Bill?"

"It has happened," responded Mr. Wilson. "We finished him Friday
morning--a year and six months in the workhouse."

Elizabeth looked about her in surprise. Miss Cresswell was near her. "Is
Mary Wilson's father that famous Judge Wilson?" she asked.

"Yes, didn't you know it?"

Elizabeth shook her head slowly. "How should I know?" she said, sinking
back into her chair as though overcome by the news. "No one told me," she
continued, "and Mary herself never mentioned it."

"Why should she?" was the response. "She is so used to his honors that she
thinks nothing at all about them."

"Isn't it strange," said Elizabeth, having slowly awakened to the
condition of affairs in the little world about her, "that it seems to be
the people who have the least and do the least that make the most fuss?"

"One thing Exeter has taught you?" said Miss Cresswell with a smile. "The
little tugs must make a noise or they may be run down, but the big liners
are confident of their own power and so is everyone."

But Elizabet