What had happened between the teachers and the pupils who had cheated in the test was, naturally, not known, except that every one knew the penalty of losing a grade. The boys that had changed seats and generally “acted up” during the presence of the substitute were well rebuked and had to endure some penalty, the girls understood; but only those who had behaved ever mentioned the occurrence. The guilty carried it off with bland ignorance or nonchalance and pretended not to understand any jokes at their expense. Jakey Bechstein was out of school for several days, but came back as lively as ever and making good recitations. His basketball team lacked his presence.

At Betty Jakey never looked, but as she had never known him very well and as he did not ordinarily sit near her in any of her classes, she scarcely noticed that he avoided her till Peggy called her attention to it.

But the year went on and Betty had many more interesting things to take up her mind. The semester examinations were a nightmare, Carolyn claimed, but they managed to live through them, as they usually do. Miss Heath was particularly fond of Betty, she told her mother when Mrs. Lee, without Amy Lou, came to visit Betty’s classes one day. “Betty is a very charming little girl, Mrs. Lee, and very bright. She is a friend of some of our best freshman girls, too, as I imagine you’d like to know. It is rather important, you know, what sort of friends the children like.”

The winter passed. Betty for the most part worked at her lessons, with pleasant Saturday afternoons, sometimes with the girls, sometimes on expeditions with the family. Her father was greatly absorbed in business affairs, but as spring approached he often drove his family to find the first spring flowers at some spot outside of the city, or to observe the coming of bud and blossom.

On one warm April day, rather in advance of the season, they thought, Mr. Lee and Betty were alone and the machine was parked by the roadside near a little stream where some violets were growing. As the ground was dry upon the sloping bank, Betty sat down with her bunch of violets in her hand and her father decided to join her. “What do you think of this place, Betty? You’d hardly expect it so near the city, would you?”

“No, but there are lots of places in this town that are what you might call unexpected, because there are the hills and ravines, you know.”

“Yes, that is so.”

“Father,” Betty spoke again after a pause during which she picked a flower within reach. “Father, don’t you think that a girl ought to take advantage of her opportunities?”

“Seems to me I’ve heard something like that, Betty.”

“Well, I’m serious, Father.”

“To just what advantages do you refer?”

“I’m thinking about school, you know, and it does seem as if there are so many things to do in these high school years, especially here in the city, that you’ll never have a chance to do again!”

“Things that you are not doing now, you mean?”

“Yes, Father. Unless you see it, you can’t realize what lovely things go on at school and you can’t help wanting to be in them!”

“What, for instance?”

“Well, there’s the music for one thing. If you get your lessons, you haven’t so much time for other things, but to be trained right here, where there’s a Symphony Orchestra and everybody knowing the best music and singing and playing it–it doesn’t seem right not to do it if you have any music in you at all. Ted Dorrance was talking about it the other day. He’s a junior this year, you know. He was with some of the girls and boys in a bunch of us, talking after school.

“I imagine that Ted gets his lessons, for he’s smart looking. I heard him talking to a boy the very first day I was in school, standing in line to sign up. He said he didn’t know what he was going to do, not much athletics only ‘swimming, of course.’ You ought to see Ted swim at a swimming meet. And dive! He can turn a somersault backwards and everything.

“He said that his mother wanted him to be in the orchestra and sure enough he is. Father, he plays the violin and he’s the very first violin in the orchestra, the one that does little solo parts sometimes, or whatever they do.”

“And do you want to be in the orchestra, too?”

“Mercee, no! What would I play? But I’d like to go on with my piano lessons, and at the Conservatory, too, and then I’d like to be in the Glee Club. Carolyn says she’s going to try to be in it next year. But you see all the practice takes a lot of time.”

“I see. Anything else, little daughter?”

Betty laughed. Father was so nice to talk to. “Yes, a lot of things, but I like the athletics, gym, you know, and swimming. I think maybe I’ll get honors in swimming. Some of the girls are more than half afraid of the water, but I feel–I feel just like a fish!”

It was Mr. Lee’s turn to laugh. “I used to feel that way, too, Betty, and I had a lake to swim in from the time I was knee-high to a duck.”

“Then I suppose I inherit it from you,” Betty declared. “I’m much, obliged for the trick of it! But that’s another thing, Father. If you do a thing, you like to do it well and I suppose it’s Louise Madison, who is president of the G. A. A., that has made me so crazy about athletics. Why, they even have riding horseback, beside tennis and everything you can think of.”

“And everything you can’t think of, I suppose.”

“Aren’t you funny–who’d ever say that but you?”

“Have you thought out, Betty, just what you’d like to take up?”

“No, Father, not exactly. I’m just–ruminating, and trying to think it out.”

“Then I’m glad you are willing to do it with me, Betty. Perhaps we can come to some conclusion.”

“Perhaps. I’m sure I need help. It’s just this way. I hate to miss it all, but I can never get my lessons and do too much. Would you care awfully, Father, if I didn’t stand at the head of my class? I did at home, I mean where we did live, but I don’t believe a body ever could even know who is the head in the big high schools. I guess it’s only in some line or other that they get prizes and things.

“And then, Father, I believe that it’s better not to be so–keyed up, as Mother says, and wanting to beat.”

“The habit of success is a good thing, Betty.”

Betty pondered a moment. “I see what you mean. It’s only too easy to let down.”

“Yes, and when one studies a subject there is more satisfaction in really covering the ground, being accurate, I mean, not just having a sort of hazy idea.”

“Father, there’s too much! You just can’t get it all.”

“You have done pretty well so far, my child. I am satisfied with your grades. Isn’t there always an honor roll?”

“Yes, and I’m on it, so far.”

“Then that is enough. You need not try to beat anybody. Wasn’t that the trouble with your friend that copied your answers?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t do that, of course, but there is a sort of nervousness about reciting well and making an impression on the teacher, whether you have your lesson or haven’t had a chance to get it real well. And sometimes you recite when you don’t know much.”

“I see. It is a problem, Betty. I see nothing for it but to make a good general plan, not including too much, then work it out every day the best you can. But it’s the little decisions every day that count in anything. I have it in business too. And I wouldn’t let down altogether in the ideals of hard work and getting lessons. It’s chiefly in putting your mind on it when you are working, isn’t it?”

“A good deal.”

“You would really like to be in that orchestra, wouldn’t you, Betty?”

Betty looked up at the smiling face of her father, who wasn’t so very old, after all. He had a fellow feeling!

“Didn’t you take a few violin lessons once?”

“Yes, when that college girl taught a class for a while, but I can’t play, Father. They wouldn’t look at me for the orchestra!”

“Probably not now; but if you took more lessons, and of a proper teacher this summer–how about it?”

“I might,” said Betty, dropping her flowers in her lap to clap her hands. “Would you let me?”

“Would you like it as much as that?”

“I’d love it!”

“Then we shall see about it at once. I’m going to send your Mother and Amy Lou to your grandmother’s this summer, but not all of you could go there. Dick and Doris might take turns. And how would you like to keep house for me, practice violin, and get taken on rides to give you an occasional breath of the country?”

“That would be great. I’m not a good housekeeper, though.”

“We’ll never tell anybody how we keep house, Betty, and I’ll be ‘boss.’ We’ll drive over to the Conservatory, Saturday, sign you up for violin with somebody–come on child. Gather up your flowers. We must go home.”

Mr. Lee sprang to his feet, gave a hand to Betty, who did not need it, but accepted it.

“But Father, I don’t know how good the old violin is and the bow is terrible. It never did do what it ought to! How can I begin?”

“The trouble with the ‘old violin’ is not that it is ‘old,’ Betty,” laughed Mr. Lee, as Betty ran after him on his way to the car. “It simply isn’t much good at all. You shall have a better one. You used to play some sweet little tunes. Here’s for a Stradivarius or ‘whatever it is,’ as you say. And you shall see how I keep you at hard work this summer! We’ll have some of the school extras or perish in the attempt.”

Betty chuckled as she climbed into the car. “All right, my dear Daddy. The neighbors will hate me, but I’ll practice, and it can’t be any worse than that horn across the street. How did you read my mind and know that I’d rather be in an orchestra than take piano lessons?”

“It was just instinct, Betty,” replied Mr. Lee, as he started the car, “with perhaps a few deductions and putting two and two together.”

“Really, Father, can you afford to get me a good violin and let me take lessons?”

“Yes. It is necessary to do things when they ought to be done, and we shall do this. But I’m counting on my girl to make good.”

“Oh, I will try! But you know me!”

“I’m not expecting too much, Betty, only the same effort that you always make in everything. I shall watch to keep you well and safe. Perhaps the athletics that you like so much will help to keep you well. But don’t get reckless in ‘gym.’ We’ll see about the riding some other year, perhaps.”