“Bosh!” said Eugene discourteously, “You’ll pay them a big lot, won’t you? That’s all poppy-cock, your trying to get a school, after a whole year out of school yourself. Much chance you’ll stand! And you may as well understand right now that I’m not going to undertake the expense of you lying around here idling and pretending to go to school for another whole year, so you better begin to make other plans.” Joyce swallowed hard and tried to smile: “Well,” she said pleasantly, “Wait till after the examinations. I may pass and then there won’t be any more trouble about it. The mathematics test is this morning. If I pass that I’m not in the least afraid of the rest. It is all clear sailing.” “What’s that?” broke in Nannette’s voice sharply, “Are you expecting to go off this morning? Because if you are you’ve missed your calculation. I have an appointment with the dressmaker in town this morning and I don’t intend to miss it. She’s promised to get my new dress done by the day after tomorrow, and you’ll have to stay home and see that the children get their lunch and get back to school. Besides, it’s time the cellar was cleaned and you’d better get right at it. I thought I heard a rat down there last night.” Joyce looked up aghast: “But Nan! You’ve known all along I must go to the school house this morning early!” “You needn’t ‘but-Nan’ me, young lady, you’re not in a position to say ‘must’ to any one in this house. If mother chose to let you act the independent lady that was her affair, but she’s not here now, and you’re a dependent. It’s time you realized that. I say I’m going to town this morning, and you’ll have to stay at home.” Nannette had sailed off upstairs with the parting words and Eugene went on reading his paper as if he had not heard the altercation. For a moment Joyce contemplated an appeal to him but one glance at the forbidding eyebrows over the top of the morning paper made her change her mind. There was little hope to be had from an appeal to him. He had never liked her and she had never liked him. It dated back to the time when she caught him deceiving his mother and he dared her to tell on him. She had not told, it had not seemed a matter that made it necessary, but he hated her for knowing he was not all that his mother thought him. Besides, he was much older than she, and had a bullying nature. Her clear, young eyes annoyed him. She represented conscience in the concrete, his personal part of which he had long ago throttled. He did not like to be reminded of conscience, and too, he had always been jealous of his mother’s love for Joyce. Joyce glanced with troubled eyes at the clock.