"But you don't care for her approvals," he said, half interrogatively.
"Yes, I care," Margaret answered. "In this case I care a great deal, as it may give me some influence over her."
"What shall you say to her?—not that I have any right to ask."
"I am very willing to tell. I had thought of asking whether she would let Garda go back with me when we go home—back to New York; I had thought of having her go to school there for six months."
"I can't imagine her in a school! But it's very kind in you to think of it, all the same."
"She could stay with Madame Martel, and take lessons; it wouldn't be quite like a school."
"That might do. Still—I can hardly imagine her away from Gracias, when it comes to the point."
"Neither can I. But, as you say, irresponsible people have made their way in here, they will do so again; we shall not be able to keep the place, and Garda, idyllic simply to please ourselves."
"Well, then, I wish we could!" responded Winthrop. "But I don't believe the little mother could stand the separation," he went on.
"I shouldn't ask her to, at least not for long; I should ask her to come herself, later. New York might amuse her."