"How do you like High School, Margery?" asked Lydia.
"Oh, it's well enough for a year or so! Of course Mama, I mean—Mother's going to send me to New York to finish."
"'Mother!' suffering cats!" moaned Kent. "Marg, you're getting so refined, I almost regret having pulled you out of the lake that time."
"You! Why Kent Marshall, I pulled her out myself!" exclaimed Lydia.
"And I saved both of you—and got licked for it," said Kent.
"I hope you all had a pleasant summer," observed Margery, twisting up the curls in front of her small ears. "Mother and I were in New York."
Kent, Lydia and Charlie exchanged glances.
"I had a pretty good summer," said Lydia. "I sewed and cooked and scrubbed and swam and once Adam, Dad, Mr. Levine and I walked clear round the lake, eighteen miles. Adam nearly died, he's so fat and bow-legged. He scolded all the way."
"I don't see how your father can let that Mr. Levine come to your house!" exclaimed Margery with sudden energy. "My father says he's a dangerous man."
"He's a crook!" said Charlie, stolidly and finally.