uch matters, myself or yourself?"

Esther sighed, but made no answer. She had no doubt as to who was the
right person, her doubt was as to the right person's doing it.
The matter, though, was too important for her to be easily daunted.
She felt she _must_ know, or she could not go.

"And--and what about our education?" she asked. She meant so well, but
she spoke in that sullen, aggressive tone that always put her in the wrong
and made her mother angry. It was purely the result of nervousness.
She did so hate to have to be disagreeable and say these things, making
herself seem so forward and important, when she really felt just the
reverse. There was no one else though to do it, so she had to.
"Is there a school there? We all ought to go to school now, even Poppy.
I am thirteen, and--and I don't know as much as the village children,
and I--I'm ashamed to go anywhere or meet any one. Every one sees how
stupid and ignorant we are." A great sob clutched her throat and choked
the rest of her words, tears of mortification and bitterness filled her
eyes. She was painfully conscious of her own ignorance, and had an
exaggerated idea of the contempt others must feel for her. "And some day
the others would come to feel the same," she told herself resentfully,
"if nothing was done for them. It was cruel. No one seemed to care for
them, or how they grew up."

And then again, she would hate herself for her bad temper, and the nasty
things she said. She knew she was making herself unlovable, and she did
so long for love.

Mrs. Carroll looked somewhat taken aback at this new question.
"Oh," she stammered, "I suppose I must arrange something. I must talk to
your father about it when I get out to him. In the meantime I daresay
Cousin Charlotte will be able to help you a little with a few lessons.
She has been a schoolmistress all her life; she had a splendid school--
such nice girls, too. She must miss them so. She will probably be quite
glad to do a little teaching."

"I wonder what she will think of us," said Esther, "if she has been
accustomed to well-brought-up girls."

"Well," cried Mrs. Carroll, turning on her sharply, "surely if you are so
anxious to learn, you might have been studying by yourself all this time.
I am sure there are books enough in the house, and you knew there was no
money to spare for education."

"Yes, there are books," said Esther quietly. "Father's books that he
brought from Oxford, bu