“It’s up to you, dearest,” he said gently.
Three days later, Betty, overhanging the side fence, was heard, by her shamelessly eavesdropping father, imparting information to her next-door neighbor and friend.
“You’d ought to get a new nothe, Thally. It don’t hurt much, an’ breathin’ ith heapth more fun!”
Pondering a chain of suggestions induced by this advice, Mr. Clyde walked slowly to the house. As was his habit in thought, he proceeded to rub the idea into his chin, which was quite pink from friction by the time he reached the library. There he found Dr. Strong and Mrs. Sharpless in consultation.
“What are you two conspiring about?” he asked, ceasing to rub the troubled spot.
“Matter of school reports,” answered the doctor. He glanced at the other’s chin and smiled. “And what is worrying you?” he asked.
“I’m wondering whether I haven’t made a mistake.”
“Quite possibly. It’s done by some of our best people,” remarked the physician dryly.
“Not a pleasant possibility in this case. You remember quoting Rochester as to closing the schools and repairing the children. To-day, as I heard Betty commenting on her new nose, it suddenly came to me that I was obstructing that very system of repairs by which she is benefiting, for less fortunate youngsters in our schools.”
“You!” said Dr. Strong in surprise.