“Well, George Richards, I suppose you imagine that you have done something wonderful in bringing that girl here and showing her off to us; but you will find that you have made a mistake. It is very praiseworthy, indeed, to seek to humiliate one’s own daughter, and I should suppose you would feel very proud of such an achievement. Where is your self-respect, that you bring a beggar in here and set her up as a reproach to your wife? I will not stand it, sir—I tell you I will not stand it! Things are come to a pretty pass, I should say, if our domestic peace is to be destroyed by that insignificant chit, and I was a fool ever to consent to her coming here.” This and much more of the same kind the angry woman poured forth in a perfect volley. Mr. Richards listened with quiet gravity to the tirade, and when she had concluded, he quietly remarked: “Well, Ellen, now that you are through, we’ll say that it’s my turn. You might just as well make up your mind to be reasonable first as last, for mine is settled upon one thing—_Star Gladstone has done the last day’s work in this house that she ever will do_! She is to have her time entirely to herself until she graduates, a year hence. I shall offer to allow her to pursue music, and painting if she desires, during the long vacation just at hand, giving her the best of masters which New York affords, and spare no reasonable expense to make her the accomplished woman that I think she is capable of becoming. _You promised_ all this to her father; he sent her to you with the belief that she would enjoy these advantages until she was fitted to become a teacher, _and she shall have them_. Now, one thing more—and you know that when I get aroused to this pitch I mean what I say—if I find that you or Jo are making her unhappy at any time, I’ll put her into the most genteel boarding-house in the city, out of your reach. As for ‘domestic peace,’ about which you twit me, I believe I love my family better than the average of men, and am not in the habit of stirring up strife; so it will rest with _you_ to keep the peace.” Mr. Richards did not wait for any rejoinder to this plain speaking, but left the room, and finding Star out upon the balcony leading from the dining-room, he told her that he had decided to let her take up music and painting during the vacation if she wished. He felt amply repaid for his efforts on her behalf on seeing the look of joy which flashed over her face, while her voice thrilled with earnestness as she replied: “Oh, sir, I ought to be the happiest girl in Brooklyn to have so much of good come to me on this, my seventeenth birthday!” “Is this your birthday?” he asked, with a feeling of selfreproach that it should have come and nearly gone with no token of remembrance, while he glanced over her meager attire and marked the absence of all jewelry or trinkets such as young girls love, for she wore nothing of the kind save a dainty cameo head fastened to the knot of ribbon at her throat.