"Yes." "And make at least three thousand a year."

"Yes."

"And uncle and yourself are my nearest relatives."

"I am aware."

"Well, haven't I a right to please myself?"

"You haven't a right to tie yourself by your hands, and your feet, for a whimsey which may pass away. Go back to your busy Chicago, my Robare, and work hard, and live the right, pure life for one year, then tell me what is your thought."

"Must I, auntie?"

It was with the old boyish voice and manner he said this, and his aunt broke into a laugh, though her eyes were wet.

"You naughty child! Will you now obey your good tante, or not?"

"Yes, ma'am, I will; but you will keep me posted?"