"Oh do!" he exclaimed, thinking this a most brilliant suggestion.

"The very nicest thing of all." And he added, in his
half-pedantic, half-pleasing way, "I shall be as wax in your
hands, mamma."

She smiled. "Very well, darling. You shall be." And she pressed
him lovingly, as though she would mould him into something
beautiful.

For the next few days great preparations were in the air. She
went to see his father's sister, the gifted and vivacious Aunt
Emily. They were to live in the country--somewhere right in the
country, with grass and trees up to the door, and birds singing
everywhere, and a tutor. For he was not to go back to school.
Unbelievable! He was never to go back to school, and the head-
master had written saying that he regretted the step, but that
possibly it was a wise one.

It was raw weather, and Mrs. Elliot watched over him with
ceaseless tenderness. It seemed as if she could not do too much
to shield him and to draw him nearer to her.

"Put on your greatcoat, dearest," she said to him.

"I don't think I want it," answered Rickie, remembering that he
was now fifteen.

"The wind is bitter. You ought to put it on."