ask prayers for her father," said
Frederick, an expression darkening his eyes which his mother dreaded.

"Prayers ... prayers!" roared the minister, "Prayers for a squatter and
a murderer!... And drinking coffee from your cups. Such a disgrace can
never be lifted from this house."

"What hurt did she do?" irreverently asked Babe. Frederick was thankful
for the child's frank question.

"Hurt? Harm, you mean. If she should just hurt a person that could be
mended. Harm was what she did!"

"What harm?" persisted Babe.

"Madam, you see your children are all growing up like heathens. There
arn't any of the parents whose sons and daughters were here last night,
who won't think a long time before they allow them to come again. You
understand, don't you, that that squatter covered with germs of all
kinds drank from your daughter's cup."

Mrs. Graves started preceptibly. She was noted for a fear of germs.

"Teola, your mouth must be scoured with peroxide ... Oh, if some one
would only tell me how it all happened!"

Frederick rose from his chair and impulsively laid his hand on his
mother's shoulder. To Teola he looked so tall and strong, so capable of
explaining, that she rose, too.

"I will tell you mother," said the student. "The girl was in distress.
In some way she had been led to believe that prayers, effective prayers,
could bring about any desired result. She simply came to ask us to pray
for her father."

Teola was by his side now, reassuringly pressing his arm.

"And where would she go," she broke in suddenly, "if not to a minister's
home?"

The pastor's whole family, at least the members that had been
submissive--for Babe had always challenged her father's commands--was
rising against him. His wife, instead of taking her willful children to
task, was weeping; his son and daughter stood beside her refuting every
word he said. He brought down his hand with a bang, his eyes narrowing
into a slit.

"You will every one do as I say," he cried. "Frederick, you are to stay
away from classes for two days, your professors knowing that you have
disobeyed your father. If your fellow students ask you why you are
absent, you must tell them what I have said. And, you, Teola--"

Frederick stopped the rush of words.

"If I stay away from college two days," he said in a low tone, so
deliberate that every word burned into the mother's brain, "I shall
never go back again. I am no longer a child and I won't be punished.