Miss Lang. I hope you won't be so foolish as to dismiss her on my
account. She's an excellent teacher, a good disciplinarian. It would be
difficult to find another as capable as she, one who, at the same time,
would put up with Radcliffe's waywardness, and your--_our_--(I'll put it
picturesquely, after the manner of Martha) our indiosincrazies. Take my
advice. Don't part with Miss Lang. She's the right person in the right
place. Good-morning!"

"Frank, Frank! Don't leave me like that. I know I've terribly annoyed
you. I can't bear to feel you're provoked with me, and yet I'm only
acting for your good. Please kiss me good-by. I'm going away. I won't
see you for two whole days. I'm going to Tuxedo this morning to stay
over night with Amy Pelham. There's a man she's terribly interested in,
and she wants me to meet him, and tell her what I think of him. He's
been attentive to her for ever so long, and yet he doesn't--his name is
Mr. Robert--" Her words frayed off in the distance, as she hurriedly
followed her brother out into the hall and downstairs.

How long Claire stood huddled against the closet-door she never knew.
The first thing of which she was clearly conscious was the feel of a key
stealthily moved in the lock beneath her hand. Then the sounds of
footsteps lightly tiptoeing away. Mechanically she turned the knob, the
door yielded, and she staggered blindly out from the darkness into the
sunlit room. It was deserted.

If Mrs. Sherman had been there, Claire would have given way at once,
letting her sense of outraged pride escape her in a torrent of tears, a
storm of indignant protest. Happily, there being no one to cry to, she
had time to gather herself together before going up to face Radcliffe.
When she entered the schoolroom, he pretended to be studiously busied