"Besides that feeling," she said, with a touch of bitterness, "which, I have no doubt, you look upon as a weak piece of sentiment, I don't see what difference her going or staying can make to me. It would be a pity to do her an injury which would do no one any good. I shall not necessarily see her half-a-dozen times, before we go away, which, I hope, we shall do for the summer, very shortly. And when we come back Jay will have forgotten me, or you will all, perhaps, have left the place. It is really too much said already on a subject which is very insignificant, though it has proved sufficiently disagreeable." And she moved as if to go away. "I quite agree with you that it has been very disagreeable; but I don't entirely see that what you have said alters my duty in the matter. I think she has deserved to be sent away; I am not sure that the discipline of a school would not be the best thing for her. I am quite sure that it is not my duty to destroy my own peace, or deprive my little boy of friends or kindness, by keeping her at home." "Not your duty, Mr. Andrews!" cried Missy. "Well, of course we look at things from such different points, it's no use discussing--" "We will waive the discussion of my duty," said Mr. Andrews, not urbanely; "but I should be very glad to know why you think it would hurt Gabrielle to send her to a good school?" Like all home-bred girls, she had a great horror of boarding-schools, and with vivacity gave a dozen reasons for her horror, winding up with--"I believe it would make her a hundred times more deceitful than she is now. It would establish her thirst for intrigue; it would estrange her from you; it would deprive her of the little healthy love that she has for out-door life and innocent amusement. If you want to ruin Gabrielle, Mr. Andrews, _pray_ send her to a boarding-school!" "I don't want to ruin Gabrielle, but I want to have a little peace myself, and to let my neighbors have some, too." "Your neighbors' peace needn't be considered, after--after we go away from the house; and I am sure you have frightened her enough to-night to make her behave better while we are obliged to stay with you." As soon as the words were out, Missy shivered at their sound. She did not mean to be so rude. "I beg your pardon," she said, not with successful penitence; "but you know we did not impose our selves upon you from choice." "I know you would not have come if you could have helped it, certainly. I am not to blame for that, however." "Well, I'm sure I didn't mean to blame any one. You must excuse me; I am very tired to-night. Only let Gabrielle's matter be considered settled, won't you? I shall thank you very much, if you will promise me she shan't be sent away." The father glanced at the small white bed, where Gabrielle lay motionless, with her eyes shut and her face turned from them, presumably asleep. "I won't take any step about sending her away, if you feel so about it--for a little while, at least."