refused to allow Ada to accept an unexpected invitation to spend a fortnight in Connecticut with Aunt Harriet. Since the never-forgotten summer two years ago, Ada had not seen Aunt Harriet. But Marcus didn't believe in Aunt Harriet's influence over Ada. He wanted no talk about it, either. She couldn't go. That was all there was to it. No more sniveling. He couldn't afford to support railroads, as well as box-offices and department stores. Scarcely had the redness disappeared from Ada's tear-stained eyes when, burning with indignation, fired with revolt, she called at Frye's Business College. A fortnight later, on the same morning that Beatrice started in on a course of rolling for reducing flesh, Ada began her shorthand and typewriting.
She could rely upon her mother's and sisters' silence. They would not tell her father. Whatever qualities the three older Belden girls might lack, they were kind and good-hearted. However foolish their little kid-sister seemed to them, they would not thwart her—not for anything. Month in and month out, Ada pursued her studies. It was only when she pictured to herself what her father's anger would be like when she was discovered that she hesitated, wavered, wondered if she had decided wisely. Books could be returned, even with the leaves cut, but it would be beyond
