crazier things when you were a girl for Uncle Athol has told me just dozens and dozens of them. Why did you spy upon me? Why? Why? I loathe being distrusted.”

The storm had burst with a vengeance.

“Beverly hush and listen to me. If you will pause a moment you will know perfectly well that I had no idea of ‘spying’ upon you. Have I ever done so? You know better. It seems to me you are displaying some doubt also. If I did not know it to be the outcome of your excitement I should decline to make any explanation. As it is I’ll tell you that I went up there to get out your winter things in order to have them remodeled. By chance I looked out of the window—it is a view rather worth looking upon, you’ll admit—and, well I saw a moving picture instead of the usual quiet landscape and it was ‘going some’ as Athol would say.” Mrs. Ashby smiled involuntarily as she recalled the spirited action of that moving picture.

“Yes wasn’t it?” cried Beverly eagerly. “And, oh that little Apache is some horse, mumsey.”

Then her face resumed its defiant expression and she continued: “But I showed them that they couldn’t put it all over me and not pay for it. They got the try-out of their lives and I got two pounds of decent candy if I did get some mud into the bargain. I’d have come home to tell you anyway; you know I would don’t you?”

“Have I intimated a doubt of it, dear?” The tone was very disarming, and warm-hearted, quick tempered just-souled little Beverly succumbed. Throwing her arms about her mother’s neck she buried her head upon her shoulder as she sobbed.

“Oh, do forgive me. I was the horrid one for doubting you and saying such nasty things. Please give me bally hack and send me away to school quick. Then maybe I’ll learn to think twice before I sass once, as Mammy Riah says. I reckon what I need is a good strict schoolmarm to boss me ’round.”

“I hope the ‘bossing’ element will be absent from the school we shall choose. I doubt it would work very well with you, Beverly. Sparks and gunpowder are apt to lead to pretty serious explosions and I dislike pyrotechnics which are likely to spread disaster. Now go change your clothes and make yourself presentable for I hear Uncle Athol calling and I dare say the momentous question is about to be answered. But what am I going to do without my little whirlwind to keep things stirring?” ended Mrs. Ashby, tenderly drawing the penitent into her arms.

“And oh, mumsey, mumsey where shall I ever find any one who will be as patient with the whirlwind? I suspect I’m going to be desperately homesick more days than once. But I’ll truly, truly try not to disgrace you and Woodbine. Yes, we’re coming Uncle Athol,” as the Admiral’s stentorian tones came booming up the broad stairway.

“Mary Beverly, come along quick and hear these letters. Lord save us, I’d rather run a blockade than choose a school for a couple of youngsters. I’ll be gray, dead and buried before it’s done! Come down I say.”

“We are coming Uncle,” called Mrs. Ashby, laughing softly as she pictured the gray-haired old Admiral striding up and down the wide hall anathematizing all the schools in creation and launching side shots at the boys because they were laughing at him. His roar was far worse than his attack as the lads well knew, as sitting—no, sprawling—upon the big claw-foot sofa they did not hesitate to let fly a projectile or two in return, only to howl at the result, for well both knew his weakness for his grandniece. “She could wind him around her little finger,” they said.

A moment later Mrs. Ashby appeared at the top of the landing to be greeted by:

“Come and hear these letters. Where’s Beverly?”

“She will be down as soon as she changes her riding skirt.”

The boys snickered.

Turning upon them the Admiral demanded:

“What are you young scamps chortling about?”

“Bev,” answered his nephew. “Did you see her when she came in?”

“Now what was the matter with her? She’s usually all right.”

“Oh, nothing. Just a trifle muddy. Mother can describe her appearance better than we can I reckon,” laughed Athol, Jr.

The Admiral bent his keen eyes upon the boys. He was a handsome old gentleman and wonderfully well-preserved for his seventy-three years.

“And I’ll lay a wager you fellows started the ball rolling and Beverly had to brace up and stop it,” he nodded.

“We didn’t! Honest, Uncle Athol, we didn’t! Did we Arch?”

“Ask Bev. Here she comes,” laughed Archie pointing toward the stairs down which a demure, spick and span, duck-clothed young lady was making her way with all the propriety of a young boarding-house-miss-in-the-making.

Instantly Athol had sprung to his feet and was mincing along behind the Admiral in such perfect mimicry of his sister that Archie hooted. Beverly scorned to notice the by-play and asked:

“Do you want me Uncle Athol?”

“Yes, come along into my study for this er-er—well perplexing question is going to be settled right here and now.”

Realizing that the settling meant a separation for a shorter or longer time, and for a greater or less distance, however determined, the boys sobered down and followed the others into the study.

There is no use going into details. The letters were duly read and discussed and it was decided that early the next morning Admiral Seldon and Mrs. Ashby should visit two of the schools, those nearest Sprucy Branch being selected.

“And please, Uncle Athol, choose Leslie Manor. It’s so near Kilton Hall that the boys can ride over to see me and I can go to see them,” begged Beverly, clasping her hands about her great-uncle’s arm and looking up into his face in a manner to coax the birds off the bushes.

He drew her into his circling arm and turning her face up to his asked, as he kissed the soft lips.

“And how in kingdom come do you suppose I’m going to get on without your coming to see me often, you torment of my soul. And how do you expect the boys to cover those ten miles between Leslie Manor and Kilton Hall, much less you? And a pretty stir-up it would make if you were to go to their school, wouldn’t it, you huzzy.”

“Why, I’m Athol’s sister, and almost Archie’s too. Why couldn’t I go? We’ll have our horses, of course.”

“Lord bless my soul, are you counting on moving the whole of Woodbine up yonder?” asked the Admiral in dismay.

“Why no, Uncle Athol, but of course we must take Snowdrift, Royal and Apache,” answered Beverly as a matter of course. Whereupon Archie and Athol, standing just behind the Admiral, and Beverly fell upon each other’s necks. Such an idea as taking their horses with them had never for a moment entered the boy’s heads.

“Well, we’ll see; We’ll see,” temporized the old gentleman, “No” seeming to have been left out of the vocabulary he employed in speaking to Beverly.

An hour was spent in discussing the subject pro and con and at its end Admiral Seldon cried:

“Quit running on dead reckoning and tell Mammy Riah to pack our grips, for your mother and I are off on the eight-thirty from Sprucy Branch and that means stepping lively tomorrow morning, Mary. And I want Uncle Abel to understand that the carriage is to be at the door at seven-thirty,—not nine-thirty.”

And so the die was cast. At seven-thirty the following morning the carriage accompanied by the three most interested in what the verdict would be upon