"Did they?" remarked Mrs. Zelotes, who had known perfectly well that they had come, having recognized the Lennox carriage in the moonlight, and having been ever since devoured with curiosity, which she would have died rather than betray. "Yes, they did," said Fanny. Then she added, after a pause which gave wonderful impressiveness to the news, "Cynthia Lennox wants to send Ellen to college--to Vassar College." Then she jumped, for the old woman seemed to spring at her like released wire. "Send her to college!" said she. "What does she want to send her to college for? What right has Cynthia Lennox got to send Ellen Brewster anywhere?" Fanny stared at her dazedly. "What right has she got interfering?" demanded Mrs. Zelotes again. "Why," replied Fanny, stammering, "she thought Ellen was so smart. She heard her valedictory, and the school-teacher had talked about her, what a good scholar she was, and she thought it would be nice for her to go to college, and she should be very much obliged herself, and feel that we were granting her a great pleasure and privilege if we allowed her to send Ellen to Vassar." All unconsciously Fanny imitated to the life Cynthia's soft elegance of speech and language. "Pshaw!" said Mrs. Zelotes; but still she said it not so much angrily as doubtfully. "It's the first time I ever heard of Cynthia Lennox doing such a thing as that," said she. "I never knew she was given to sending girls to college. I never heard of her giving anything to anybody." Fanny looked mysteriously at her mother-in-law with sudden confidence. "Look here," she said. "What?" The two women looked at each other, and neither said a word, but the meaning of one flashed to the other like telegraphy. "Do you s'pose that's it?" said Mrs. Zelotes, her old face relaxing into half-shamed, half-pleased smiles. "Yes, I do," said Fanny, emphatically. "You do?" "Yes, I 'ain't a doubt of it." "He did act as if he couldn't take his eyes off her at the exhibition," agreed Mrs. Zelotes, reflectively; "mebbe you're right." "I know I'm right just as well as if I'd seen it." "Well, mebbe you are. What does Andrew say?" "Oh, he wishes he was the one to do it." "Of course he does--he's a Brewster," said his mother. "But he's got sense enough to be pleased that Ellen has got the chance." "He ain't any more pleased than I be at anything that's a good chance for Ellen," said the grandmother; but all the same, after Fanny had gone, her joy had a sharp sting for her. She was not one who could take a gift to heart without feeling its sharp edge. Had Ellen's sentiment been analyzed, she felt in something the same way that her grandmother did. However, she had begun to dream definitely about Robert, and the reflection had come, too, that this might make her more his equal, as nearly his equal as Maud Hemingway.