"Would it not be wise to prepare her, my dear?"
"Prepare Sally?" gasped Mrs. Burwell, and she went back to her mirror with dancing eyes.
VI
"I have learned all they can teach me here," wrote Eugenia from school on her eighteenth birthday, "so I'll be home to-morrow."
"Bless my soul!" exclaimed the general, holding the letter above his cakes and coffee. "The child's mad—clean mad! We must put a stop to it."
"Write her to stay where she is," said Miss Chris decisively.
"I'll write her, the young puss!" returned the general angrily. "Giving herself airs at her age, is she? Why, she's just left her bottle!"
"What else does she say, Tom?" inquired his sister as she passed him the maple syrup.
The letter fluttered helplessly in the general's hand. "I can't stay away any longer from my dear, bad-tempered, old dad," he read in a breaking voice; then he added hesitatingly, "I don't reckon she's right about knowing enough, eh, Chris?"