It surprised Mrs. Dalrymple to see her sister pluck up so much spirit, but this defiant attitude did not affect her. There was in her such a certainty of being in the right, and of causing the right to prevail, that she was able to take all Lucretia's opposition very quietly. It was obstinate of her sister to hold out like this--weak people always were obstinate--and it was extremely foolish, but her surrender was only a matter of time. Lucretia went on talking, urging her suit in a way that would have struck some people as pathetic, but Constantia was not much given to seeing the pathos in life; her view of things in general was optimistic, and unless a sorrow was thrust before her she did not look at it. Constantia let Lucretia talk on until she naturally ceased, after repeating herself a good many times, in the way that peculiarly weakens a cause. Then she brought up her reserve force. "But do you think it would be good for the child to be by herself, just with you and old Fanny?" Fanny was ten years younger than her mistress, and Lucretia realised how very old fifty-nine must be. Constantia paused a moment. Then she went on to point out all the drawbacks of a bringing-up such as Amy must have with two old maids--not using the term, but dwelling on the characteristics implied in it. "What would you do with the child if she were naughty?" Mrs. Dalrymple asked by way of a test question. "She is sure to have a strong will of her own; you know what poor Ann was." Miss Lucretia could not answer the question, naughtiness seeming to her as multi-form a thing as illness, and the treatment for either depending upon its form and cause. She replied that her idea was to bring the child up on a system of love; a vague answer which did not satisfy her sister. "Bringing up children is not such an easy and simple matter as people might think who have had no experience." Here Constantia herself stood on a firm foundation. "And it is much more difficult to bring up one child by itself than when there are others for it to consort with." Then Mrs. Dalrymple proceeded to dilate on the smallness of Primrose Cottage, which was certainly a very poor little place compared with The Towers. There Amy would have the grounds to play about in; she would share the girls' governess, ride on Gwendoline's pony, and Nurse, who had been so splendid with Bertram and Edie, would only be too pleased to have a child again. "It always makes her and me quite unhappy to look at the empty nursery," said Mrs. Dalrymple, "though the children have only flown into the schoolroom." There was a weight of truth in every sentence Constantia uttered, which made it strike like a battering-ram against the walls of Miss Lucretia's airy castle. At last she gave a little cry--a cry in words: "Oh, don't tell me that I mustn't have Amy!"