It was by Mr.Gridley's advice that she went, and by his pecuniary assistance.

What could I do?
She was bent on going, and I was afraid she would have fits, or do something dreadful, if I did not let her have her way.

I am afraid she will come back to us spoiled.

She has seemed so fond of dress lately, and once she spoke of learning--yes, Mr.Bradshaw, of learning to--dance! I wept when I heard of it.

Yes, I wept." That was such a tremendous thing to think of, and especially to speak of in Mr.Bradshaw's presence, for the most pathetic image in the world to many women is that of themselves in tears,--that it brought a return of the same overflow, which served as a substitute for conversation until Miss Badlam entered the apartment.
Miss Cynthia followed the same general course of remark.