"She stood on the outside of the door, Brother Richard," said Aunt Cordelia, quite flushed and breathless, "with the door drawn to behind her. She's a terrifying woman, Richard. She said it was a case for discipline. She said she would allow no interference. My precious baby! And I kept on giving her iron----" Uncle Charlie had come out with the buggy to take his brother-in-law driving. "What did you come back without her for?" demanded Uncle Charlie. Aunt Cordelia turned on Uncle Charlie. "You go and see why," said Aunt Cordelia. Truly an Aunt Cordelia is the last one to stand before a Miss Lizzie. Uncle Charlie took his brother-in-law in the buggy, and they drove to the school. Emmy Lou's father went in. Uncle Charlie sat in the buggy and waited. Uncle Charlie wondered if it was right. Miss Lizzie was one of three. One was in an asylum. One was kept at home. And Miss Lizzie, with her rages, taught. But could one speak, and take work and bread from a Miss Lizzie? When papa came down, he had Emmy Lou, white-cheeked, by the hand. He had also a sternness about his mouth. "I got her, you see," he explained with an assumption of comical chagrin, "but with limitations. She's got to say she's sorry, or she can't come back." "I'm not sorry," said Emmy Lou wearily, but with steadiness. "Stick it out," said Uncle Charlie, who knew his Emmy Lou. "She needn't go back this year," said Aunt Cordelia when she heard, "my precious baby!" "I will teach her at home," said Aunt Louise. "There must be other Green and Gold Books," said papa, "growing on that same tree." But Uncle Charlie, with brows drawn into a frown, was wondering. ALL THE WINDS OF DOCTRINE Emmy Lou was now a Big Girl. One climbed from floor to floor as one went up in Readers. With the Fifth Reader one reached the dizzy eminence of top. Emmy Lou now stood, as it were, upon a peak in Darien and stared at the great unknown, rolling ahead, called The Grammar School. Behind, descended the grades of one's achievements back to the A, B, C of things. One had once been a pygmy part of the Primer World on the first floor one's self, and from there had gazed upward at the haloed beings peopling these same Fifth Reader Heights. But Emmy Lou felt that somehow she was failing to experience the expected sense of dizzy height, or the joy of perquisite and privilege. To be sure, being a Big Girl, she found herself at recess, one of many, taking hands in long, undulating line, and, like the Assyrian, sweeping down on the fold, while the fold, in the shape of little girls, fled shrieking before the onslaught. But there had been a time when Emmy Lou had been a little girl, and had fled, shrieking, herself. The memory kept her from quite enjoying the onslaught now, though of course a little girl of the under world is only a Primary and must be made to feel it. The privileged members of the Fifth Reader World are Intermediates.