of study; I'll have to go to Europe for that."

"To England?"

"First of all."

"What will Mr. Faringfield say to that?"

"He will not mind it so much in my case. I'm not of the Faringfield
blood."

"Egad," said I, "there's some of the Faringfield blood hankers for a
sight of London."

"Whose? Ned's?"

"No. Margaret's."

We were young men now, and she would not let us call her Madge any
more. What I had said was true. She had not grown up without hearing
and reading much of the great world beyond the sea, and wishing she
might have her taste of its pleasures. She first showed a sense of her
deprivation--for it was a deprivation for a rich man's daughter--when
she finished at the dame-school and we boys entered college. Then she
hinted, very cautiously, that her and Fanny's education was being
neglected, and mentioned certain other New York gentlemen's daughters,
who had been sent to England to boarding-schools.

Delicately as she did this, the thought that his favourite child could
harbour a wish that involved going to England, was a blow to Mr.