e morning after the memorable ride in
the Fire-Bird, and was now in the major's study, discussing the
situation with Dorothy's father.

"But the child has had so many shocks lately, brother," said Mrs.
White. "It does seem the only practical plan is to remove her entirely
from these surroundings. Of course, it will be hard for you to let her
go away, but you must remember, Dorothy has always been a little
over-strained with care for one of her years, and now that your means
will allow it, she should have every possible advantage to make up for
what she may have lost in the way of nerve force."

"Oh, I am sure you know, sister," replied the major, "I would not
deprive the child of anything she should have, no matter what it cost
me, in money or--the loss of her company. She has certainly been my
Little Captain, for I can always depend upon her to keep the young
troopers in line--"

"But why remain here at all? You can give up business now. Do,
brother, come and make your home with me. I really need you so often,
when I have no one to advise with about the boys. And Joe and Roger
would be so much better off with me to look after them. Mrs. Martin
has done wonderfully well for her years, but she is no longer able to
see to them properly. Just give up this place and come to the Cedars,"
urged Mrs. White.

"I would not know how to leave dear old Dalton or my newspaper," mused
the major. "Of course you are very good to think of bothering with
another family. Most women think one family enough to bring up."

"Indeed, I need something to do," argued the sister, "and Roger would
be a perfect treat to me. He is such a darling. Joe will go to
school, of course (already taking it for granted that her invitation
would be accepted), but I would have Roger taught at home for this
year. He is too young to mix up with all the others."

"I am sure it would be good for the children--"

"And for yourself! Why, you are not too old to enjoy your life. The
idea of a man of less than fifty years, considering himself old," and
Mrs. White laughed in that captivating manner of hers, that had so
often won her cause when all other arguments failed. "And that school
you speak of for Dorothy, the one in the mountains of New England, what
did you call it?"

"The Glenwood School," replied the major. "Mrs. Pangborn, who conducts
it, is an old friend of mine, and if I should trust Dorothy with anyone
it would be with Louise Pa