up in grim reproach.

"You like all this," he grunted. "You, a grown woman, a teacher too."

"I wonder if I do," she said. "I guess I'm a queer person, dad, a curious
family mixture--of Laura and Edith and mother and you, with a good deal of
myself thrown in. But it feels rather good to be mixed, don't you think?
Let's stay mixed as long as we can--and keep together the family."

* * * * *

That afternoon, to distract him, Deborah took her father to a concert in
Carnegie Hall. She had often urged him to go of late, but despite his
liking for music Roger had refused before, simply because it was a change.
But why balk at going anywhere now, when Laura was up to such antics at
home?

"Do you mind climbing up to the gallery?" Deborah asked as they entered the
hall.

"Not at all," he curtly answered. He did mind it very much!

"Then we'll go to the very top," she said. "It's a long climb but I want
you to see it. It's so different up there."

"I don't doubt it," he replied. And as they made the slow ascent, pettishly
he wondered why Deborah must always be so eager for queer places.
Galleries, zoo schools, tenement slums--why not take a two dollar seat in
life?