So it was to Arethusa that the explanations due Aunt Mary’s interest in her scapegrace fell, and she bowed her back to the burden with the resignation which the circumstances demanded. 

 “Whatever is the difference between bein’ expelled and bein’ suspended?” Aunt Mary demanded, in her tone of imperious impatience. “Well, why don’t you answer? I was brought up to speak when you’re spoken to, an’ I’m a great believer in livin’ up to your bringin’ up—if you had a good one. What’s the difference, an’ which costs most? That’s what I want to know. I do wish you’d answer me, Arethusa; there’s two things I’ve asked you now, an’ you suckin’ your finger an’ puttin’ on your thimble as if you were sittin’ alone in China.” 

 “I don’t know which costs most,” Arethusa shrieked. 

 “You needn’t scream so,” said Aunt Mary. “I ain’t so hard to hear as you think. I ain’t but seventy, and I’ll beg you to remember that, Arethusa. Besides, I don’t want to hear you talk. I just want to hear about Jack. I’m askin’ about his bein’ expelled and suspended, an’ what’s the difference, an’ in particular if there’s anything to pay for broken glass. It’s always broken glass! That boy’s bills for broken glass have been somethin’ just awful these last two years. Well, why don’t you answer?” 

 “I don’t know what to answer,” Arethusa screamed. 

 “What do you suppose he’s done, anyhow?” 

 “Something bad.” 

 Aunt Mary frowned. 

 “I ain’t mad,” she said sharply. “What made you think I was mad? I ain’t mad at all! I’m just askin’ what’s the difference between bein’ expelled an’ bein’ suspended, an’ it seems to me this is the third time I’ve asked it. Seems to me it is.” 

 Arethusa laid down her work, drew a mighty breath, very nearly got into the ear-trumpet, and explained that being suspended was infinitely less heinous than being expelled, and decidedly less final. 

 Aunt Mary looked relieved. 

 “Oh, then he’s gettin’ better, is he?” she said. “Well, I’m sure that’s some 

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