"Where are you going, Mother?" said Marjorie, looking admiringly at her mother's pretty gown.
"We're going to Mrs. Martin's to dinner, dearie. She invited us over the telephone this morning. There's a very nice dinner prepared for you children, and you must have a good time by yourselves, and not be lonesome. Go to bed promptly at nine o'clock, as we shall be out late."
"Is father going, too?" cried Marjorie, aghast.
"Yes, of course. You may fasten my glove, Midget, dear."
"But I want father to help me with my spelling."
"I thought about that, Mops," said her father, coming into the room. "And I'm sorry I have to be away to-night. But I'll tell you what we'll do. When is this great spelling-match,—to-morrow?"
"Yes, to-morrow afternoon."
"Well, you study by yourself this evening, and learn all you can. Then skip to bed a bit earlier than usual, and then hop up early to-morrow morning. You and I will have an early breakfast, at about seven o'clock. Then from half-past seven to half-past eight I'll drill you in that old speller till you can spell the cover right off it."
"All right," said Marjorie. "It's really just as well for me to study alone to-night, and then you can help me a lot to-morrow morning. But won't it make you too late going to business?"
"No, I'll take a half-hour off for your benefit. If I leave here by half-past eight that will do nicely, and that's about the time you want to go to school."