By and by Roger came from the barnyard in his working-clothes, and seeing no preparations for breakfast in the kitchen, exclaimed: 

“So we heathen must sit down to the second table to-day.”

“Yes, if you wish.  Susan and me are going to take our breakfast in the sitting-room with Mrs. Jocelyn and her family.”

“Am I not invited?” he asked a little anxiously.

“There’s no need of any invitation.  You have as much right there as I have, only I would not come in looking like that.”

“They won’t like it—­this new arrangement.”

“It seems to me that you have grown very considerate of what they like,” put in Susan.

“Miss Jocelyn proposed it herself,” Mrs. Atwood said, “and if you and father would fix up a little and come in quietly and naturally it would save a deal of trouble.  If I can’t get a little rest on Sunday I’ll wear out.”

Roger waited to hear no more, and went hastily to his room.

Mr. Atwood was more intractable.  He distinguished the Sabbath from the rest of the week, by making the most of his larger leisure to grumble.

“I’m in no state to sit down with those people,” he growled, after the change and the reasons for it had been explained to him.

“I’m glad you feel so,” his wife replied; “but your old clothes have not yet grown fast to you; you can soon fix yourself up, and you might as well dress before breakfast as after it.”

He was perverse, however, and would make no greater concession to the unwelcome innovation than to put on his coat.  Mildred smiled mentally when she saw him lowering at the head of the table, but an icicle could no more continue freezing in the sun than he maintain his surly mood before her genial, quiet greeting.  It suggested courtesy so irresistibly, and yet so unobtrusively, that he already repented his lack of it.  Still, not for the world would he have made any one aware of his compunctions.  Mrs. Atwood and Susan had their doubts about Roger, fearing that he would rebel absolutely and compel a return to their former habits.  They were all scarcely seated, however, before he appeared, a little flushed from his hasty toilet and the thought of meeting one who had been cold and disapproving toward the belle of Forestville, but Mildred said “good-morning” so affably and naturally that he was made quite at ease, and Mrs. Jocelyn, who had seemed unapproachable, smiled upon him so kindly that he was inclined to believe her almost as pretty as her daughter.  As for Belle and the children, he already felt well acquainted with them.  Mrs. Atwood and Susan looked at each other significantly, for Roger was dressed in his best and disposed to do his best.  Mildred saw the glance, and felt that the young fellow deserved some reward, so she began talking to him in such a matter-of-course way that before he was aware he was responding with a freedom that surprised all the family, and none more than himself.  Mildred was compelled