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 "I never felt any dissatisfaction," she said.

Austin was good-humoredly airy. "My dear lady," he said, "you forget. On the second and seventh of last January you wrote my aunt that you intended to remove her. On the eighteenth of this month you said that you had never known an institution so deficient—"

Mrs. McLane waved a large gloved hand. "I am open, candid, Mr. Bevans, perhaps over-critical, but I have the best interests of this school at heart. I should never dream of removing my daughter."

Austin shook his head. "Isn't it too bad I should have misunderstood you," he said. "I'm afraid that my telegram has gone to Mr. McFadden—Mr. Lemuel V. McFadden, you know, the cattle king." (He thought the name did credit to his imagination.) "Such an interesting daughter, too, but then we should not expect a McLane to be commonplace."

"Ah, you have always understood her here," said Mrs. McLane. "I can never find another school that will."

"Too bad she has to go," murmured Austin. He let her plead vainly until a new visitor was announced, and then very graciously yielded.