to that of six, I had prevailed
upon her to give up sugar,--the money so saved to go to a graduate of
our institution--who was afterwards----he labored among the
cannibal-islanders. I thought she seemed to take pleasure in this small
act of self-denial, but I have since suspected that Kitty gave her
secret lumps. It was by Mr. Gridley's advice that she went, and by his
pecuniary assistance. What could I do? She was bent on going, and I was
afraid she would have fits, or do something dreadful, if I did not let
her have her way. I am afraid she will come back to us spoiled. She has
seemed so fond of dress lately, and once she spoke of learning--yes,
Mr. Bradshaw, of learning to--dance! I wept when I heard of it. Yes, I
wept."

That was such a tremendous thing to think of, and especially to speak of
in Mr. Bradshaw's presence,--for the most pathetic image in the world to
many women is that of themselves in tears,--that it brought a return of
the same overflow, which served as a substitute for conversation until
Miss Badlam entered the apartment.

Miss Cynthia followed the same general course of remark. They could not
help Myrtle's going if they tried. She had always maintained that, if
they had only once broke her will when she was little, they would have
kept the upper hand of her; but her will never _was_ broke. They came
pretty near it once, but the child wouldn't give in.

Miss Cynthia went to the door with Mr. Bradshaw, and the conversation
immediately became short and informal.

"Demonish pretty business! All up for a year or more,--hey?"

"Don't blame me,--I couldn't stop her."

"Give me her address,--I'll write to her. Any young men teach in the
school?"

"Can't tell you. She'll write to Olive and Bathsheba, and I'll find out
all about it."

Murray Bradshaw went home and wrote a long letter to Mrs. Clymer
Ketchum, of 24 Carat Place, containing many interesting remarks and
inquiries, some of the latter relating to Madam Delacoste's institution
for the education of young ladies.

* * * * *

While this was going on at Oxbow Village, Myrtle was establishing
herself at the rather fashionable school to which Mr. Gridley had
recommended her. Mrs. or Madam Delacoste's boarding-school had a name
which on the whole it deserved pretty well. She had some very good
instructors for girls who wished to get up useful knowledge in case they
might marry professors or ministers. They had a