The Charm School
know, Elise," Austin explained. "He and I quarreled like mad this morning."
"You quarreled with everybody this morning."
"Yes, that's the way it affects me—to have you run away."
"What does it matter really about grandfather? We'll live and run the school together. We can't be married until I graduate, you know."
"Oh, I don't know, I'd give you a diploma even if you were my wife."
They had rather expected a demonstration on their return, but no one appeared to welcome them except Miss Curtis. Mr. Johns had gone to bed, she said, after receiving word of their approach, in a state bedroom next the infirmary kept especially for parents; at least he had gone up-stairs.
He did not thus, however, escape his granddaughter, who, drawing Austin after her, went straight to his door—knocking upon it as she opened it—a very annoying habit.
Mr. Johns, in a black silk dressing-gown lined with crimson satin, was sitting under an electric lights reading a magazine. He looked up over his rimmed spectacles and said, in an alarmingly calm and determined tone:
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