"Of course it isn't sound," said Wood. "And as a matter of fact, my sister never thought of it until I objected. She evolves these theories merely for the sake of protecting her children. Oddly enough, she not only doesn't want to change them herself but she doesn't want any one else to change them. Three years ago I engaged in a life-and-death struggle with her to get Durland--the boy--to boarding school. She advanced the following arguments against it: First, that he was a perfectly normal, manly boy and did not need to go; second, that he was of a peculiar, artistic, sensitive temperament and would be wrecked by being made to conform to boarding-school standards; third, that none of the successful men of the country had gone to boarding school; fourth, that success was the last thing she desired for any son of hers; fifth, that she did not wish to remove him from the benefits of my daily influence; and sixth, that I was a person of no judgment and absolutely wrong about its being wise for a boy to go to school." "And is he at school?" Miss Exeter inquired politely. "Oh, yes," answered Wood, without seeing anything amusing in her question. "Although my sister does a good deal to counteract the effect--by making fun of the teachers and the rules, and always bringing him, when she goes to visit him, whatever is specially forbidden, like candy and cigarettes and extra pocket money. You see, that's where it's going to be hard for you. She not only doesn't want to discipline them herself but she's against any person or institution that tries to do it for her. As soon as you begin to accomplish anything with the children--as I'm sure you will do--she'll be against you; she'll want you to go." "That makes it pretty hopeless, doesn't it?" said Miss Exeter. He shook his head briskly. "No," he said; "for I have made her promise that she won't send you away, no matter what happens, until I get back. I know what was in her mind when she gave the promise--that she could make it so unpleasant for you that you'd go of your own accord. So, Miss Exeter, I want you to promise me that you won't go, no matter how disagreeable she makes it----" "Oh, Mr. Wood, I couldn't do that," said Augusta. "There's no use in going at all otherwise," he said. "Oh, come, be a sport! I'll make it worth while. I'll give you a bonus of five hundred dollars if you're still on the job when I get back--or I'll bring you a turquoise--I'm going down to inspect the best mine in the world. You see, I feel this means the whole future of those children--to be with a woman like you. I know you could do with them just what I want done." "You may be mistaken about that, Mr. Wood." "I may be, but I'm not." The blue eyes fixed themselves on her. She said to herself that it was the five hundred dollars--so desirable for a trousseau--that turned the scale, but the blue eyes and the compliment had something to do with her decision.