d said in a voice shaking with
emotion:

"I wish my father and all Englishmen to know that I am your friend and
that I have a love that can not be turned aside or destroyed and that I
will have my right as a human being."

"Come let us go and talk together--we three," he proposed.

They took a cab and drove away.

"You will think all this a singular proceeding," Lady Hare remarked.
"I must tell you that rebellion has started in our home. Its peace is
quite destroyed. Margaret has declared her right to the use of her own
mind."

"Well, if she is to use any mind it will have to be that one," Franklin
answered. "I do not see why women should not be entitled to use their
minds as well as their hands and feet."

"I was kept at home yesterday by force," said Margaret. "Every door
locked and guarded! It was brutal tyranny."

"The poor child has my sympathy but what can I do?" Lady Hare inquired.

"Being an American, you can expect but one answer from me," said the
philosopher. "To us tyranny in home or state is intolerable. They
tried it on me when I was a boy and I ran away."

"That is what I shall do if necessary," said Margaret.

"Oh, my child! How would you live?" her mother asked.

"I will answer that question for her, if you will let me," said
Franklin. "If she needs it, she shall have an allowance out of my
purse."

"Thank you, but that would raise a scandal," said the woman.

"Oh, Your Ladyship, I am old enough to be her grandfather."

"I wish to go with Jack, if you know where he is," Margaret declared,
looking up into the face of the philosopher.

"I think he is pushing toward America," Franklin answered. "Being
alarmed at the condition of his adversary, I advised him to slip away.
A ship went yesterday. Probably he's on it. He had no chance to see
me or to pick up his baggage."

"I shall follow him soon," the girl declared.

"If you will only contain yourself, you will get along with your father
very well," said Lady Hare. "I know him better than you. He has
promised to take you to America in December. You must wait and be
patient. After all, your father has a large claim upon you."

"I think you will do well to wait, my child," said the philosopher.
"Jack will keep and you are both young. Fathers are like other
children. They make mistakes--they even do wrong now and then. They
have to be forgiven and allowed a chance to repent and improve their
conduct. Your father is a g