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Mrs. Van Buskirk compressed her lips and gave Cathalina a searching look. “Why, my child, that does not sound like you! And since when have you grown sentimental?”

“O, I don’t mean anything silly, Mother, but you get so hot rowing! I’m not athletic, like that horrid Gladys Morrow that ran around with Ann Maria last summer.”

“I wish you had her health,” said Mrs. Van Buskirk.

“And her manners?”

Mrs. Van Buskirk only smiled wisely and drew the telephone apparatus toward her. “I must telephone to Aunt Katharine now.”

“Just a moment, Mother. Do you care if I telephone to Professor Glenn not to come this morning? It is so hot and I want to see Phil. Then we’ll be going away pretty soon anyway, won’t we? I haven’t practiced much and I don’t like the things he gives me. I don’t like him very well either.”

“What a list of excuses!” Mrs. Van Buskirk paused to consider. “If you are feeling ill, Cathalina, I will telephone to him myself. But it hardly seems courteous to be so irregular in the work, to say nothing of your own good. I think we might let the lessons go on until we go away.”