occurred to Sylvia disquietingly that her mother's expression was a
little like Judith's. But when Mrs. Marshall spoke it was only to say
in her usual voice: "Well, the first thing to do is to have something
to eat. Whatever else you do, don't let a bad condition of your
body interfere with what's going on in your mind. Lunch is getting
cold--and don't talk about trouble while you're eating. After you're
through, Father'll tell you what to do."

Professor Marshall made a gesture of dismay. "Good Lord, Barbara,
don't put it off on me!"

His wife looked at him with smoldering eyes. "I certainly have nothing
to say that would be fit for children to hear!" she said in an
energetic tone, beginning to serve the baked beans, which were the
main dish for the day.

After the meal, always rather hasty because of the children's short
noon-hour, Sylvia and Judith went to sit on their father's knees,
while he put an arm about each and, looking from one serious expectant
face to the other, began his explanation. He cleared his throat, and
hesitated before beginning, and had none of his usual fluency as he
went on. What he finally said was: "Well, children, you've stumbled
into about the hardest problem there is in this country, and the
honest truth is that we don't any of us know what's right to do about
it. The sort of thing that's just happened in the Washington Street
School is likely to happen 'most anywhere, and it's no harder on these
poor little playmates of yours than on all colored people. But it's
awfully hard on them all. The best we can do is to hope that after a
great many people have lived and died, all trying to do their best,
maybe folks will have learned how to manage better. Of course, if