“Yes, us. You're a good girl and a smart girl--the smartest and best girl there is in this town. A girl like that ought to do somethin' better'n than stay here in South Harniss and keep store. Keepin' store's all right for old hulks like Zoeth Hamilton and Shad Gould, but you ain't an old hulk; you're a young craft right off the ways and you ought to have a chance to cruise in the best water there is.” “Uncle Shad, what are you talking about? Cruise in the best water?” “That's what I said. You ought to mix with the best folks and get a fine education and meet somebody besides drummers and--and Sol Higgins's son. Selling coffins may be a good job, I don't say 'tain't; somebody's got to do it and we'll all have to invest in that kind of--er--furniture sometime or 'nother. And Dan Higgins is a good enough boy, too. But he ain't your kind.” “My kind! Uncle Shad, what in the world have I got to do with Dan Higgins and coffins--and all the rest of it?” “Nothin', nothin' at all. That's what I'm tryin' to tell you if you'll give me a chance. Mary-'Gusta, your Uncle Zoeth and I have decided that you must go to school up to Boston, at the Misses Cabot's school there. You'll board along with that Mrs. Wyeth, the one we met today. She's a good woman, I cal'late, though she is so everlastin' straight up and down. You'll board there and you'll go to school to those Cabot women. And--” But Mary-'Gusta interrupted. The hen was off the nest now, there was no doubt of that, and of all unexpected and impossible hatchings hers was the most complete. The absurdity of the idea, to the girl's mind, overshadowed even the surprise of it. “What?” she said. “Uncle Shad, what--? Do you mean that you and Uncle Zoeth have been in conspiracy to send me away to school? To send me away to Boston?” Shadrach nodded. “No conspiracy about it,” he declared. “Me and Zoeth and Mr. Keith, we--” “Mr. Keith? Yes, yes, I see. It was Mr. Keith who put the idea in your head. How perfectly silly!” “Silly? Why is it silly?” “Because it is. It's ridiculous.” “No, it ain't, it's common sense. Other girls go to city finishin' schools, don't they? That Irene Mullet's just gone, for one. Don't you think we figger to do as much for our girl as Becky Mullet can do for hers? Jumpin' fire! If you ain't worth a hogshead of girls like Irene Mullet then I miss my guess.” “Hush, Uncle Shad; what difference does that make?” And now Zoeth put in a word. “Mary-'Gusta,” he said, “you know what a good school like the one Shad's been speakin' of can do for a girl. I know you know it. Now, be right down honest; wouldn't you like to have a couple of years, say, at a school like that, if you could have 'em just as well as not? Didn't you say not more'n a fortni't ago that you was glad Irene Mullet was goin' to have such a chance to improve herself?” Mary-'Gusta had said that very thing; she could not truthfully deny it.