"Belle's a mere child," said Mrs. Jocelyn, with her low laugh.

"I'm sixteen years old, I thank you; that is, I shall be soon; and
I know a real man from the ghost of one."

"Belle," cried Mildred, in a tone she rarely used, "I will neither
permit nor pardon any such allusions."

"Come, girls," expostulated their mother, "our nest is too small
for any disagreements, and we have a great deal too much to do for
such useless discussions. I'm sorry with Millie that Roger is bent
on leaving home, for I think his parents need him, and he could do
well in the country. The city is too crowded already."

"He'll make his way through the crowd," persisted Belle.

"Does his father or mother know of his plans?"

"Well, to tell the truth, I don't know very much about his plans.
He talks little concerning himself, but when he took me out to
drive the day after Millie left, he said he had decided to come to
New York and get an education, and that if I'd let him know where
we lived he'd come and see me occasionally. I said, 'What will they
do at home without you?' and he replied, 'I can do more for them
away from home by and by than here.' Now, mamma, you'll let him
come to see me, won't you?"

"Certainly, Belle. I'll be reasonable in this respect. I know young
people need company and recreation. My only aim has ever been to