“Then why didn’t you come like a civilized being!  The house has doors.  Tell me, do you intend to come in?”

“If you please, aunt.”

“You may do so.”

“Thank you,” fluttered Andy.

He now discovered that his coat had caught in half-a-dozen fish hooks attached to an eel line all tangled up in the framework.  It took him fully two minutes to get free.  Andy climbed over the window sill and stood fumbling his cap.  His old awe of his dictatorial relative was as strong as ever within him.

“Can’t you sit down?” she demanded, sinking to a chair herself and facing him steadily.  “How long have you been outside there?”

“Only a few minutes,” answered Andy.

“Did you see anybody in this room beside myself?”

“Yes, ma’am—­a man.”

“And eavesdropping, I suppose?” insinuated Miss Lavinia.

“I heard him say ‘good night,’”

“Um!” commented Miss Lavinia.  That closed the subject for the present.  She had always known Andy to be a truthful boy, and his reply seemed to satisfy her and relieve her mind.

Andy wondered what he had better say first.  The fixed, set stare of his stern, uncompromising relative made him nervous.

“See here, aunt,” he blurted out at last, “I’ve never seemed to do anything right I did for you, and you don’t care a snap for me.  I don’t see why you keep hounding me down and wanting me back home.”

“I don’t.”

“Eh?” ejaculated Andy.

“No, I don’t,” declared Miss Lavinia.

“You don’t want me back at Fairview?”

“I said so, didn’t I?” snapped Miss Lavinia.

“Then—­then—­”

“See here, Andy Wildwood,” interrupted his aunt in a tone of severity, “you have been a disobedient, ungrateful boy.  You deserve to be locked up.  I’ve tried to have you.  I am so satisfied, however, on reflection, that you will have a bad ending anyhow, that I have decided to wash my hands of you.”

“Glory!” uttered Andy to himself, in a vast thrill of delight.

“Have you joined the circus?” continued Miss Lavinia.

“They won’t have me—­”

“Why not?”

“Without your sanction.  They want you to sign away any claims as to damages, if I get hurt.  I knew you wouldn’t do that.”

“You are mistaken, Andy Wildwood—­I will do it.”

“It’s too easy to be true!” breathed Andy, in wild amazement.  “You—­you will sign such a paper?” he stammered.

“Didn’t I say so?  Let me understand.  You wish to cut loose from home and friends for good, do you?  You don’t want to ever return to Fairview?”

“Not till I’m rich and famous,” answered Andy.

“H’m!  Very well.  What have I got to sign?”

“That’s it,” said Andy, with eager hand drawing a written sheet from his pocket.

Miss Lavinia opened the document, read it through, went to the table, took a fountain pen from her reticule, signed the paper, returned it to Andy.