as very
repugnant to him and he was at a loss to know what to do.

Aunt Maria's fright had given her unusual courage and she had told him
some unpleasant truths, things she would never have dared say under
ordinary circumstances; but after his surprise at her daring had died
down he faced her accusations, fought them out one by one, recognized
the truth of them and capitulated. Tabitha could go away to boarding
school. Words are inadequate to express Tabitha's joy when told this
delightful news; she was literally entranced with the prospect.

The night that Aunt Maria had departed for her eastern home, Tabitha sat
disconsolately on the back steps, alternately patting General Grant's
head resting on her knee, and trying to study her grammar lesson, but
the nouns and verbs would become hopelessly mixed, and the adjectives
and adverbs fought scandalously with each other. Mr. Catt, tilted back
in his chair beside the window, tried to read the city paper, but found
his glance wandering constantly to the lonely figure on the steps.

"I am a beast," he said to himself, as the brown hand swept a tear off
the page she was supposed to be studying. "This is no place for a child
like that. She has the making of a fine woman in her, and I haven't done
right by her. She _is_ bright, and Maria is right. Tabitha!"

She started violently. "Yes, sir."

"Come here."

Closing her book but keeping it clasped in her hands she went inside the
house and stood waiting to know his pleasure, surprise--almost
apprehension at this unexpected summons--showing plainly in her face.
"You were reciting some gabble on the steps a little bit ago. Say it
again."

"Gabble?" said the puzzled girl questioningly.

"Yes, something about Ghent."

"Oh, that wasn't gabble! That is a masterpiece, teacher says. Why,
Robert Browning wrote that!"

"Um-hm. I'm not interested in Robert Browning. All I want is that piece.
Speak it."

Astonished and not comprehending this demand in the least, Tabitha began
falteringly, somewhat indifferently:

"I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris, and he;
I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three;"

But as the familiar words slipped from her tongue, the spirit of the
piece came over her. Her voice grew tense with feeling and the hands
that never could stay still lent their aid to the difficult art of
expression.

"So, we were left galloping, Joris and I,
Past Looz and past Tongres, no cloud in t