In the hall she almost collided with Elsie, trailing wearily from the kitchen with a great bowl of salad. Elsie put down the bowl and caught at her.
"Oh, Jeany! It was too wonderful. I never was so thrilled in my life! I don't believe I ever realized what college could mean before. If I only had had the chance! When I heard that darling old man talking about life—oh, Tommykins has just got to go when he grows up, if we starve to put him through."
"Can't be done without food, Elsie." By a supreme effort Jean succeeded in speaking lightly, but when Elsie showed signs of being about to kiss her, Jean escaped to the kitchen.
As she entered, Martha Norris emptied the creamed celery into a blue willow dish, and wiped her damp forehead with her apron. Her mouth drooped with fatigue but she smiled. Jean crossed the room quickly and took her mother in her arms.
"Mummy, you're not going to have a bad headache?" She framed the small face in both hands and looked down into her mother's faded eyes.
"Why, no, dear. It's just the heat and the excitement. It's been a big day for me, Jean. Then I got a little late and that always flurries me."
Jean drew her mother closer. "I'm not going to let you work like this any more. You're going to take things easier now I'm through, whether you want to or not."
"Now, Jeany, you know I'd be perfectly miserable idle."
"There's a lot of difference between idleness and this." Jean's hand swept the hot kitchen and the stove covered with pans. "You slave and what for? They don't even thank you."
Martha Norris laid her work-scarred hand on Jean's arm.