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 always was abusing the school, and you'll do just as well without her."

But Austin did not want to lose any of his pupils. "If there's any weeding out to be done," he thought, when he was left alone, "I'll do it myself." Besides, he knew how easily at this moment of the school's life a general stampede could be started. No, he didn't want to lose the McLane child, however troublesome she was.

A few minutes later Mrs. McLane swept in—a tall woman, befeathered, bejeweled, and rustling with the richest fabrics.

"Can this be Mr. Bevans?" she asked, in the same tone, but not at all with the same flattering intention, with which Faust inquired about the face that launched a thousand ships.

"Ah, Mrs. McLane, isn't it?" said Austin, almost chattily. "I was hoping you might drop in to say good-by. We shall miss you and—and" (he just glanced at a letter)—and Muriel very much."

"Miss us? I don't understand. Is my daughter no longer an acceptable pupil at the Bevans School?" asked Mrs. McLane, portentously.

"Very acceptable, except for your dissatisfaction with the school."