When Miss Munsing came to the door Doris greeted her cordially. "Father is waiting for you in the study. Mr. Andrews telephoned that you were coming."
"I suppose you think I am just terrible to go back on my job," said Miss Munsing, lifting troubled eyes to Doris' face.
"I never think anybody is terrible," said Doris, laughing. "I am too well acquainted with my own self to sit in judgment on anybody else. Treasure says the girls will never give you up. Leave it to father. He will fix you up."
So Miss Munsing went up-stairs, and Doris and the others waited impatiently until the front door closed behind her when the interview was over. Then they trooped eagerly into the hall, waylaying their father on the stairs.
"Did you persuade her?"
"Was I the trouble?" queried Treasure.
"Yes, you were the trouble sure enough," said Mr. Artman, pinching her cheek gaily. "She felt the class should have a teacher who knew—and she said frankly that she did not know. She had thought it quite a simple matter to teach a class of young girls, using pretty stories to illustrate plain points—but she said our gentle little Treasure hurt her conscience to the point of insomnia."
"Did you tell her I promised—"
"Yes, but Miss Munsing is no quitter. She would not hear of such a thing. She said it would be bad for you, and bad for the rest, and worst of all for her. She would not even discuss it."
"What did you do, father? Of course you thought of something."