Little Martha Kenworthy, to use her own careless expression, was "in bad with her dad," as usual. But she was not a girl to be disturbed by a trifle of that sort. She had been home only a few days from her college in the east for her second summer holiday, and had been followed too closely by official comments on her term's work. The only explanation she saw fit to give to her father on that subject was to the effect that he should forget it. Her mother had taken him aside and said privately, firmly, and coaxingly:
"Now, Bob, I'm not going to have that child's life made miserable by somebody else's brilliance. It isn't Martha's fault that she hasn't phenomenal brains. I'm not going to have her scolded for being like me."
"Miserable! Huh! There's a fat chance of her being miserable. It would be a mighty good thing if some one could make her miserable a few minutes. That's what I'm trying to get at! She's got enough brains, if she wasn't too lazy to use them. She'll be fired next term if she isn't careful, and then where'll you be? I'm going to make her quit this eternal fooling around."
"Bronson's spoiled you, Bob. That's all the matter with you. You're always wishing Martha would dazzle people, sort of make them sit up and blink, the way he used to. It's all right for a boy to be so terribly clever, but it would be awkward for a woman. It would make her conspicuous, Bob."
"Well, I wouldn't care so much, Emily, if I could even get a rise out of her about it. I light into her, and you know what she says! 'Yes, daddy! Yes, daddy!' like a little angel. And she hasn't the least idea of doing anything about it. If she'd get good and mad about it once, we could get some place. She just goes on like a little mule!"
"No one but you ever calls her a mule, Bob," Emily cajoled him. "Other people seem to lead her about easy enough."
"Yes! Toward a dance, they do. But how about a trigonometry?"
"You ought to have married a Phi Beta Kappa, Bob, with a golden key. You never asked to see my school reports when you married me; that's where you made your mistake. She's her mother's own child, you know."
"I never saw a kid less like her mother in my life! I never saw anybody like her. I know I only got through exams. by the skin of my teeth, but I did work now and then."
"Martha works hard enough when anything interests her. You ought to see people look at her room, Bob. Grace, Mrs. Phillips, said to me day before yesterday, 'Goodness, Emily, you've got a clever daughter. How old is Martha? I thought she was only nineteen.' She doesn't think she's stupid, Bob. You just wait. Martha'll make you proud of her yet!"