her irritation of the afternoon. The conversation which had aroused her
ire before now struck her as humorous.

"If Mrs. Davis and Mrs. Jones could only see me now," she thought with
an inward chuckle, "doing my own cooking!" The half-formed plan of
sending Gladys back to Miss Russell's the first of the year faded from
her mind. Send Gladys away? Why, she was just beginning to enjoy her
company! Another plan presented itself to her mind. In the Christmas
vacation Gladys should give a party which would forever dispel any
doubts about the soundness of their financial standing. Her brain was
already at work on the details. Gladys should have a dress from Madame
Charmant's in New York. They would have Waldstein, from the Symphony
Orchestra, with a half dozen of his best players, furnish the music.
There would be expensive prizes and favors for the games. Mrs. Davis and
Mrs. Jones would have a chance to alter their opinions when their
daughters brought home accounts of the affair. She planned the whole
thing while she was eating her supper.

After supper Gladys washed the dishes and her mother wiped them, and
they put them away together. Then Gladys began to get ready to go to
Camp Fire meeting and Mrs. Evans reluctantly prepared to go out for the
evening. The nearer ready she was the more disinclined she felt to go.
"Those Jamieson musicales are always such a bore," she said to herself
wearily. "They never have good singers--my Gladys could do better than
any of them--and they are interminable. Father looks tired to death, and
I know he would rather stay at home. Gladys," she called, looking into
her daughter's room, "where is your Camp Fire meeting to-night?"

"At the Brewsters'," answered Gladys.