“Blake darling,” she had said, “are you doing anything this morning?” Harmless enough as far as it went. He answered without suspecting anything. “Nothing special. Can I help you?” “If you would. I haven’t anyone to send up to Sunmount with some flowers I promised to Mrs. Meriwether, because Paul is busy over at the garage overhauling the Packard, and I’ll need it this afternoon. I did promise Mrs. Meriwether, and the poor thing’s so ill. Could you _possibly_——” “Certainly. I’ll take them over now, if you like.” He stood up and pushed back his chair. “Wait a minute, dear. It isn’t so important that it can’t wait a little. I’ve been waiting for a chance to talk to you.” He hesitated, badly frightened at her tone. Something was going to happen; something unpleasant. “It’s about school.” He sat down again slowly and hopelessly. “I knew it,” he said. “What about it?” “Well.... Here’s a letter from the people in California. They’re willing to take you for the next year; isn’t that nice?” “No, it isn’t.” He mused bitterly and added, “How do you know they’re willing? They haven’t even seen me.” “Well, I pointed out to them that there wasn’t much time for preparation. I explained about your last school——” “Did you have to?” he asked quickly. “Yes, darling. I was very fair to you, I think. I said that I understood that they had a modern viewpoint, and I said I was sure they’d agree that the preliminary meeting was a formality that wasn’t really important. I must say that they sound extremely reasonable. They seem to agree to everything I say. In fact, I’m sure it will turn out very well.” He tried to answer her, but at his expression she laughed. “Oh, darling, don’t look so miserable! What a baby you are!” “Listen,” he said desperately. “I’ve been talking about this place to Phyllis and she says it’s terrible.” “Does she? I’m surprised at Phyllis. Her mother said that she was very happy there.” “She doesn’t know how terrible it is: she’s too dumb. But I could tell from what she said. She says they understand the kids.” He spoke in deep loathing. “Well? Why do you object to that?” “Oh, what’s the use?” he cried. “Blake! What do you propose to do with yourself if you don’t go to school? You can’t go on like this.” “Why not?” he asked, without any real hope. “Besides, when you grow up you won’t be satisfied with yourself. You’re just a baby, really. I know you don’t think of yourself that way, but you are. An ignorant little child. I can’t let you grow up without learning any more, can I? How will you ever get into college?” He answered quickly, “But I keep telling you, I don’t want to go to college. I won’t go.” “You’ll change your mind when the time comes,” she said benevolently. He drew pictures on the tablecloth with a fork, and tried hard to think of what he could say. He would feel his way.