"Granny, I don't know what to say. I should so like to have an education, and to be—oh! don't cry so. If every one thinks I ought not to go,"—and Flossy's lip quivered.
"I am a foolish old body," sobbed Granny. "I'm not worth minding, my dear."
"Fossy tum home. What 'ou ky?" said Dot, tugging at Granny's dress.
"If we could see you once in a while."
Florence felt the last to be an impossibility. She had a keen perception of the difference in station, and the nameless something that Granny could not be brought to see.
"You would hear about me," she said softly.
Granny went back to her ironing. Florence offered to help, and arranged her own light table. But it was uncomfortable this hot summer day, and her tender hand felt as if it was blistered. She consoled herself by relating the experiences of the past month, and inwardly sighing for the luxurious life. Granny was not so stupid but that she could see the direction of the child's desires.
"I don't wonder that you liked it; and she couldn't help loving you, even if I do say it. Why, a queen might be proud of you! If we knew some one to ask."
"There is Mr. Howard," Florence suggested.
"Sure enough. He would see all sides of it. We'll go over after the work is done;" and Granny tried to smile a little lightness into her sad face.