“Oh! I realize our inequality, Mamma,” Beth said sadly. “It’s the difference in our education, not our ages, that troubles me. He may be only a boy, but he’s got something in his head that I haven’t. And oh, Mamma! I want it so!”
“My dear girl!”
“I know. It is wicked, but I must say it. I told Larry last night that I meant to go to Rivercliff this September. And I mean to! It seems to me that I would sacrifice almost anything for the chance to go there. I must go!”
“My dear!”
“Yes. It sounds dreadful, doesn’t it? I just get desperate when I think of how badly I want to learn. And if I don’t become a teacher, what is to become of me? Am I to go into the dye factory to earn my living? Dear Mother! I must earn my living somehow. The children are getting bigger, and need more and more. They must be educated, too. If I could get my teacher’s certificate in three years I could help you all.”
“I know—I know, child,” said her mother. “You would help us if you could.”
“Now I’ve made you cry! I’m so sorry! Do forgive me! But it isn’t that I would help the family if I could. It is that I must! Don’t you see it, Mamma? Papa is getting no younger. Already Marcus talks of going to work. Am I better than my brother? The family needs my help as much as it needs his. And I should be able to do more than he.”
“But, my dear——” cried Mrs. Baldwin, surprised by the girl’s earnestness. She began to doubt if her daughter was quite as childish as she had supposed.
“At least,” went on Beth, ignoring her mother’s half-spoken protest, “you must let me go to work this summer to see if I can earn enough, somehow, to pay for my first half, if no more, at Rivercliff.”
“And what after that, daughter?” asked Mrs. Baldwin.