"No, of course not, but it's lots of fun to know we could if we did want to."
"I pity the next parsonage bunch," said Connie sympathetically.
"Why? There's nothing the matter with our church!"
"Oh, no, that isn't what I mean. But the next minister's family can't possibly come up to us, and so—"
The others broke her sentence with their laughter.
"Talk about me and my complexion!" gasped Carol, wiping her eyes. "I'm nothing to Connie and her family pride. Where will we live now, father?"
"We'll rent a house—any house we like—and live like white folks."
"Rent! Mercy, father, doesn't the conference furnish the elders with houses? We can never afford to pay rent! Never!"
"Oh, we have a salary of twenty-five hundred a year now," he said, with apparent complacence, but careful to watch closely for the effect of this statement. It gratified him, too, much as he had expected. The girls stood stock-still and gazed at him, and then, with a violent struggle for self-composure Carol asked:
"Did you get any of it in advance? I need some new slippers."