The father saw she was fast budding into womanhood, and sighed, for he felt she should know something beyond the rough life of the mountains, and, although parting from her was like tearing out his own heart, he resolved to send her to a boarding school in St. Louis. His daughter must be a lady; he had not forgotten his early life.
Grace heard his decision. She had not forgotten her visit to that wonderful city five years before, and, now that she was older, thought she would like to see and know more of it.
"But how can I leave you, papa?" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck and pressing kiss after kiss upon his brow.
Mr. Chittenden clasped her to his breast. "It will not be for long, child," he said huskily, "and I would have my little girl a lady."
"Am I not a lady, now?" she asked, pouting.
"Yes, yes, Grace; but I would have you know something of the ways of society. I do not want you to be always a mountain girl. You are worthy to adorn the grandest palace in the city."
"I don't want to adorn a palace. I love the valley of La Belle," she replied. "I want to live and die here."
"You may think differently some day, child. It is only for your good I would have you go, for, Grace, you do not know how hard it is for me to part from you."
Again the girl threw her arms around him. "Don't make me go, papa," she sobbed. "I thought I wanted to go, but I don't now. I don't want to be a fine lady. I want to stay with you."
"No, Grace; it is for the best." And so it was fully decided.