But it's 'most time for school to
close, anyway. There are only two weeks more.
But I don't think that will make any difference to Aunt Jane. It's the
principle of the thing. It's always the principle of the thing with
Aunt Jane. She'll be very angry, I know. Maybe she'll send me home.
Oh, I _hope_ she will!
Well, I shall tell her to-morrow, anyway. Then--we'll see.
* * * * *
_One day later_.
And, dear, dear, what a day it has been!
I told her this morning. She was very angry. She said at first:
"Nonsense, Mary, don't be impertinent. Of course you'll go to school!"
and all that kind of talk. But I kept my temper. I did not act angry.
I was simply firm and dignified. And when she saw I really meant what
I said, and that I would not step my foot inside that schoolroom
again--that it was a matter of conscience with me--that I did not
think it was _right_ for me to do it, she simply stared for a minute,
as if she couldn't believe her eyes and ears. Then she gasped:
"Mary, what do you mean by such talk to me? Do you think I shall
permit this sort of thing to go on for a moment?"
I thought then she was going to send me home. Oh, I did so hope she
was. But she didn't. She sent me to my room.
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