thought I had done right, and I
think so still, though it would perhaps have been better to have passed
it over."

"Why do you say that I gave up moral force?"

"Telling people to leave the room is not moral force. Calling them
impertinent is not moral force."

"You think then that I am bound to listen patiently to whatever you
choose to say to me, however unbecoming it may be from one in your
position to one in mine?"

"But I said nothing unbecoming," said Agatha. Then, breaking off
restlessly, and smiling again, she said: "Oh, don't let us argue. I
am very sorry, and very troublesome, and very fond of you and of the
college; and I won't come back next term unless you like."

"Agatha," said Miss Wilson, shaken, "these expressions of regard cost
you so little, and when they have effected their purpose, are so
soon forgotten by you, that they have ceased to satisfy me. I am very
reluctant to insist on your leaving us at once. But as your uncle has
told you, you are old and sensible enough to know the difference between
order and disorder. Hitherto you have been on the side of disorder, an
element which was hardly known here until you came, as Mrs. Trefusis
can tell you. Nevertheless, if you will promise to be more careful in
future, I will waive all past cause of complaint, and at the end of the
term I shall be able to judge as to your continuing among us."

Agatha rose, beaming. "Dear Miss Wilson," she said, "you are so good! I
promise, of course. I will go and tell mamma."

Before they could add a word she had turned with a pirouette to the
door, and fled, presenting herself a moment later in the drawing-room to
the three ladies, whom she surveyed with a whimsical smile in silence.

"Well?" said Mrs. Jansenius peremptorily.

"Well, dear?" said Mrs. Trefusis, caressingly.

Mrs. Wylie stifled a sob and looked imploringly at her daughter.

"I had no end of trouble in bringing them to reason," said Agatha, after
a provoking pause. "They behaved like children, and I was like an angel.
I am to stay, of course."

"Blessings on you, my darling," faltered Mrs. Wylie, attempting a kiss,
which Agatha dexterously evaded.

"I have promised to be very good, and studious, and quiet, and decorous
in future. Do you remember my castanet song, Hetty?

"'Tra! lalala, la! la! la! Tra! lalala, la! la! la! Tra!
lalalalalalalalalalala!'"

And she danced about the room, snapping her fingers instead of
castanets.

"Don't b