"If you've got any sense, you'll go, Len," Martie said. "I wish
you'd let me go study to be a trained nurse, Pa! Miss Fanny wants me
to go into the lib'ary. I bet I could do it, and I'd like it, too ..."

"And speaking of your grandfather reminds me," Malcolm said heavily,
"that one of the things that delayed me to-day was a matter that
came up a week or two ago. When the town buys the old Archer ranch
as a Park, they propose to put twelve thousand dollars into
improvements--"

"Oh, joy!" said Martie. "Excuse me, Pa!"

"The trolley will pass it," her father pursued, "the Park being
almost exactly half-way between Monroe and Pittsville. Now
Pittsville ..."

"What do you bet they get all the glory?" Martie flashed. "Their
Woman's Club..." Her voice fell: "I DO beg your pardon, Pa!" she
said again contritely.

"I can discuss this with your mother," Malcolm said in majestic
patience.

"Oh, no! PLEASE, Pa!"

Her father studied her coldly, while the table waited with bated
breath.

"Pittsville," he resumed in a measured voice, without moving his
eyes from his third daughter, "is, as usual, making a very strong