“Yes, Ma’am, I do,” the girl responded smartly. “I know my arithmetic. It’s seven years—just seven years, Mother mine.”
“That is not the real difference, Beth,” her mother pursued. “The difference is not to be measured by time——”
“No! One would think it were eternity to hear you,” laughed Beth.
Her mother laughed too; yet she was more serious than Beth could see any occasion for.
“There is a freshness and a boyishness about young men—and some men when they become older—that make them seem less mature than quite young girls,” Mrs. Baldwin said, finding it a little difficult to impress her daughter with the change in her whilom playmate.
“Larry Haven has stepped over the line from boyhood to manhood, whether you realize it or not, Beth. There is a vast difference now between you two. You look forward to study and the acquirement of text-book knowledge——”
“Oh! how much!” murmured Beth.
“While he looks back upon his school course. The difference between knowledge wished for, and knowledge attained, is vast. It isn’t measured by mere time, as I said before. It is a difference in the attitude of one’s mind toward most things in the world. However much Larry may seem just the same as he used to be, he is not the same. He is a man grown, and you are only a girl.”
“Oh, Mamma! That is a sharp one,” said Beth, laughing placidly. “I really can’t see that being fifteen instead of twenty-two makes much difference between Larry and me. I can still make him say just the thing I want him to say—I always could. And I can still get the best of him in an argument.”
Mrs. Baldwin had to laugh, although it was not a very cheerful laugh. “Your being able to argue did not come from your studies in school, child, that is sure. You have always been good at that. You would argue now that you and Larry were equal.”