ty darling?"

"Do you ever think?"

"I don't know."

"Would you like one of these gentlemen of yours to blow one of the
others' brains out, or stab him, or any thing of that sort?"

"How shocking you are, Kitty dear! What a dreadful question!"

"Well, understand me now. One of them _will_ do that. There will be
trouble, and your name will be associated with it."

"Well," said Minnie, "I know who _won't_ be shot."

"Who?"

"Why, Rufus K. Gunn," said she, in the funny, prim way in which she
always pronounced that name. "If he finds it out, he'll drive all the
others away."

"And would you like that?"

"Well, you know, he's awfully fond of me, and he's so like a boy: and
if I'm such a child, I could do better with a man, you know, that's
like a boy, you know, than--than--"

"Nonsense! He's a madman, and you're a simpleton, you little goose."

"Well, then, we must be well suited to one another," said Minnie.

"Now, child, listen," said Mrs. Willoughby, firmly. "I intend to put a
stop to this. I have made up my mind positively to leave Rome, and
take you home to papa. I'll tell him all about it, put you under his
care, and have no more responsibility with you. I think he'd better
send you back to school. I've been too gentle. You need a firm hand.
I'll be firm for a few days, till you can go to papa. You need not
begin to cry. It's for your own good. If you're indulged any more,
you'll simply go to ruin."

Mrs. Willoughby's tone was different from usual, and Minnie was
impressed by it. She saw that her sister was resolved. So she stole up
to her and twined her arms about her and kissed her.

"There, there," said her sister, kissing her again, "don't look so
sad, Minnie darling. It's for your own good. We must go away, or else
you'll have another of those dreadful people. You must trust to me
now, dearest, and not interfere with me in any way."

"Well, well, you mustn't be unkind to poor Rufus K. Gunn," said
Minnie.

"Unkind? Why, we won't be any thing to him at all."

"And am I never to--to--see him again?"

"No!" said her sister, firmly.

Minnie started, and looked at Mrs. Willoughby, and saw in her face a
fixed resolution.

"No, never!" repeated Mrs. Willoughby. "I am going to take you back to
England. I'm afraid to take any railroad or steamboat. I'll hire a
carriage, and we'll all go in a quiet way to Florence. Then we can
take the railroad to Leghorn, and go home by the way of Marseilles. No