“That’s bad. One surely ought to believe in herself if she expects to get on. Perhaps the doctor can help your indecision.”
There was a mischievous twinkle in Elsie’s eyes that was not lost on the doctor, but with the utmost gravity he replied: “Well, yes, I think I can. It will be a mission worth while to learn the problem of self-support and self-education under adverse circumstances. It will need something more than enthusiasm.”
“A patience and a finesse of which I am not sure I am master. I am only mutely feeling my way now. Indeed, the doctor has lifted so much responsibility from my shoulders in this new venture that I hardly know what I can do.”
“You will know when the opportunity comes to act. Just now you needed the little friendly direction I am very glad I was able to offer. There are times when even the strongest are not wholly self-reliant.”
Tears stood in Margaret’s eyes as she answered: “How unblessed is he who can make no claim on loyal friendship. May I always prove myself worthy of it.”
“We’ll not question that now, nor in the future,” said the doctor, a glow of light in his eyes that watching Elsie did not fail to note. “Now, tell me your plan for making use of this mine,” he added, touching the book-case at his right hand.
“I’ve been thinking we must get at the nuggets with as little delay as possible, for we haven’t time to bore through worthless drifts of scoria, even though at the bottom may be a mine of wealth. We must make practical and immediate use of what we learn.”
“True,” interposed the doctor as Margaret looked up interrogatively. “I am deeply interested.”
“This, then, is what I’ve been thinking: every thought of other minds from which we can draw sustenance must be drained of its nutriment before we seek another, and that thought must be made to bear relatively upon our own. In other words, it must father a new growth in our own minds, for in that way only can education have any practical bearing upon life and action.”
“Excellent!” exclaimed the doctor warmly. “Go on, please.”