family." She had her hours discussing her future with Peter, long
visits and talks with Margaret and Gertrude, and a cup of tea at
suffrage headquarters with Beulah, as well as long sessions in the
shops accompanied by Mademoiselle, who made her home now permanently
with David. She sat before the fire drowsily constructing pyramids out
of the embers and David stood with one arm on the mantel, smoking his
after-dinner cigar, and watching her.

"Is it to be college, Eleanor?" he asked her presently.

"I can't seem to make up my mind, Uncle David."

"Don't you like the idea?"

"Yes, I'd love it,--if--"

"If what, daughter?"

"If I thought I could spare the time."

"The time? Elucidate."

"I'm going to earn my own living, you know."

"I didn't know."

"I am. I've got to--in order to--to feel right about things."

"Don't you like the style of living to which your cooperative parents
have accustomed you?"

"I love everything you've ever done for me, but I can't go on letting
you do things for me forever."

"Why not?"

"I don't know why not exactly. It doesn't seem--right, that's all."

"It's your New England conscience, Eleanor; one of the most specious
varieties of consciences in the world. It will always be tempting you
to do good that better may come. Don't listen to it, daughter."

"I'm in earnest, Uncle David. I don't know whether I would be better
fitted to earn my living if I went to business college or real
college. What do you think?"

"I can't think,--I'm stupefied."

"Uncle Peter couldn't think, either."

"Have you mentioned this brilliant idea to Peter?"

"Yes."

"What did he say?"

"He talked it over with me, but I think he thinks I'll change my
mind."

"I think you'll change your mind. Good heavens! Eleanor, we're all
able to afford you--the little we spend on you is nothing divided
among six of us. It's our pleasure and privilege. When did you come to
this extraordinary decision?"

"A long time ago. The day that Mrs. Bolling talked to me, I think.
There are things she said that I've never forgotten. I told Uncle
Peter to think about it and then help me to decide which to do, and I
want you to think, Uncle David, and tell me truly what you believe
the best preparation for a business life would be. I thought perhaps I
might be a stenographer in an editorial office, and my training there
would be more use to me than four years at college, but I don't
know."

"You're an extraordi