“They are very well provided for,” said Fan, quietly.
“And was that handsome man who came to church with you one Sunday, not long ago, their brother? Has he gone to make the grand tour of Europe? O, how I do envy people who can go abroad!”
“He has gone to England on some business. He has been to Europe before.”
“Wasn’t he charming? How I should have enjoyed such a visitor! Mother says that father might give us a winter in Paris just as well as not. It would perfect my French so much!”
“Do you mean to teach?” asked Fan.
She had such a droll way of clipping the wings of Kate’s higher flights.
“Well, I should think not, Fanny Endicott! But I want to be fitted for elegant society. I shall go to Washington a while in the winter; that I am sure of, for my aunt has invited me; and she has no children—so she will be glad to have me. And so I mean to make a brilliant marriage.”
“That’s all girls think about,” growled Dick.
“O, no,” returned Fan; “some have to think about darning stockings, and making pies, and altering over their last summer’s dresses. And some of them think about the future, whether they will be teacher or dress-maker, or step over to the strong-minded side and keep books or lecture.”
“I hope neither of you two girls will be strong-minded,” exclaimed Dick. “Your father does not believe in it at all; and it doesn’t seem the thing for women to be running round the country lecturing and haggling with men about money.”