“Dear knows—dear knows!” she sighed, shaking her head.
It was a well-worn theme with them. They had to ponder deeply these tendencies, for it was their work to try to counteract these destructive forces—to build up in the hearts of these servant-made children, as Mr. Benjamin called them, a respect for God and man and the holy things that grow out of their relationship.
The summer passed almost without event. The three girls, hard and brown as Indians, were beginning to plan for the fall, when the others would return.
It was in early September that the blow fell upon Isabelle. A telegram from Wally had appraised his daughter of their arrival in New York. They were to spend the fall at the Club house near The Beeches. He hoped she was well. Did she want him to come and see her?
She answered this briefly, also a note from her mother. As Mrs. Bryce rarely troubled to write letters to any one, Isabelle pondered the reason for this amiable epistle. It was soon to be explained. Mrs. Benjamin received a letter from Mrs. Bryce saying that notification had arrived that Isabelle would be admitted this October to Miss Vantine’s Finishing School, where her name had been entered for years. She wished the girl sent directly to this address in New York on the last day of September, as she was to board at the school for the present until it was decided whether the Bryces would open their town house.
Mr. Benjamin shook his head sadly over this letter, and carried it to his wife.
“Adam—Adam, we cannot let her go to that school! It will be her ruination,” she exclaimed.
“My dear, it is the most fashionable school in New York,” he replied, with a sigh.
“It is shoddy, and artificial and false!” she protested in unwonted heat. “My poor, dear Isabelle! Adam, couldn’t we make a plea for her?—tell her mother how she improves here, how fast she progresses?”