REBELLION. 19

 "Well-ahem-why, yes, Polly; I intend sending
him to school."
 Not to a boarding school," said Polly, the rosy
face growing a little pale, and unclasping her arms
from about her father's neck.
 "Why, yes, Polly," answered Mr. Gilbert in rather
a faltering voice.
 The moment the words were out of his mouth,
Polly slid from his knee and stood before him, her
face grown quite white and unlike itself. The small
mouth was drawn with the first look of determination
and rebellion he had ever seen upon it, and the baby
lips trembled with grief and anger.
 "If you do, father," said this young tyrant, "I'll
never, never forgive you, and," she continued, her
firmness now rapidly dissolving, "I'll die of grief;"
and in a passion of sorrow, Polly fled from the
room.