The next day she had a talk with Mrs. Tremaine and Kitty. Kitty could hardly be brought to listen, and exclaimed,—
"After we have it all so nicely arranged! And what shall I do without you? I do think you are too bad, even to think of such a thing!"
"Hush, dear!" said her mother. "Let us hear Therese tell her reasons."
Therese opened her heart to the bottom. She could hardly have done it to any one else; but Mrs. Tremaine had been her Sunday school teacher for years, and Kitty was a second self. Mrs. Tremaine was convinced, and even Kitty was brought to say—
"Well, of course there wouldn't be any comfort if you went against your duty and conscience and thought your grandmother was wanting you all the time. But you must come to us if anything happens, mustn't she, mamma?"
"Certainly—that must be understood. And, Therese, some provision must be made for your education. Would your grandmother spare you to go to school?"
"Oh, yes, ma'am. She doesn't really need a great deal done for her."
"And Therese can have my scholarship, can't she, mamma?"
"I think we can arrange it even better than that, Kitty. Yours has only two years to run. Cousin Tilly's would be better, and as Marion McGregor's withdrawal makes a vacancy, I have no doubt Cousin Tilly will give the nomination to Therese."
So the matter was arranged, and Therese, feeling that her self-denial was already rewarded, went down to communicate the news to her grandmother. Madame Duval made some difficulty about her accepting the sacrifice, but her delight at the proposal could not be concealed. The Beaubiens were less easy to satisfy, but they were easy-going, good-natured people, and the pride and pleasure of seeing their pet's name among the young ladies of the Crocker school helped to smooth matters.