s in bed," Henry said significantly.

Margery heard her father pull over a porch chair and seat
himself.

"She's been bad," Katherine said.

Still her father made no comment.

It was Alice's turn to speak, and there was nothing left to tell
but the deed itself.

"She went in swimmin'," Alice whispered.

And then, of all things, as Gladys Bailey would say, what did her
father do but laugh! He laughed loud and long; but the others,
evidently surprised, did not join him.

It was Gladys who spoke first.

"You forgot to tell your father that she went in swimmin' with
boys."

"With boys!" her father echoed, and laughed harder than before.

Up-stairs, her head pressed against the window-sill, Margery
could scarcely believe her ears. Did he really think it was
funny? And then she had it. Her father was pretending! But that,
after all, was only half a clue. Why was he pretending? Why?

He stopped laughing after a time and began putting questions to
each of them in turn, until he had pieced together the whole
story.

"Katherine," he asked finally, "why did you and Alice not take
her with you when you went calling? If you had, this would not
have happened."

"Well, you see, papa," began Katherine, "she's too little for our
crowd."

"Too little? What nonsense! She's not a bit too little."

"Well, Gladys says she is," Katherine insisted.

Gladys corrected this statement kindly but firmly: "What I said
was, that, for first calls, four was perhaps too big a crowd."

"Oh, I see. That is very different. No doubt Gladys is entirely
right. But you've made your first calls now, haven't you?--and
hereafter Margery can go with you just as well as not, can't she,
Gladys? Why, you know, really, in crowds, the more the merrier.
Besides"--and Margery knew just as though she were there the kind
of look her father was giving Gladys--"as a favor to me!"

Gladys was completely taken in.

"I'll be glad to do anything I can for you, Mr. Blair," she said
politely. Then she added gratuitously: "Everybody ought to be
kind to each other."

"That's it, exactly. As Gladys says, the big boys and girls
should always be kind and gentle to the smaller ones. Now Henry
was right, when he found his little sister doing something wrong,
to bring her home. But next time he's going to be more gentle
about it, aren't you, Henry?"

Yes, Henry was, and Margery hugged herself in wonder and
amazement. Why, her father was simply workin' 'em fo