love the place. But two years more—two years!”
“Do you really mind it so much?”
“I think what I mind the most is that I don’t like it more,” said the girl slowly. “Mamma wanted it so. She really loved study. I don’t, but if I did—I should love it more than this. This would seem so childish. And if I just wanted a good time, why, then this would seem such a lot of trouble. All the good things here seem—seem remedies!”
The older woman laughed nervously. Three weeks—three weeks and no word!
“You will be making epigrams, my dear, if you don’t take care,” she said lightly. “But you’re going to finish just the same? The girls like you, your work is good; you ought to stay.”
The girl flashed a look of surprise at her. It was her only hint of sympathy.
“You advise me to?” she asked quietly.
“I think it would be a pity to disappoint
