Mrs. Euphemia Haven was one of those women who manage a lorgnette very well indeed. She caught it up now and looked at Beth through it—not because she really needed this aid to sight, but to cover a sudden slight confusion that she felt.
“Mercy, Beth! how really pretty you have grown!” was her first audible comment. “And what a big girl! The other day you were only a little thing and Larry was playing nurse-girl to you. I expect he remembers you now as the little black-eyed tot he used to be so devoted to.”
“I presume so, Mrs. Haven,” replied Beth, composedly.
“Why, you must be through school,” went on Mrs. Haven. “Are you working or do you help your mother?”
“It is work helping in a family of eight, Mrs. Haven,” laughed Beth. “I have finished high school. But I hope to go to a more advanced school in the fall.”
“That will be rather difficult, will it not?” suggested Mrs. Haven, with raised eyebrows.
Beth knew that it was an intimation that Mrs. Haven fully understood the Baldwin’s financial circumstances. It was not said unkindly; yet, somehow, Beth felt that it was antagonistic. Her pretty head came up and she looked rather proudly into the fine eyes of Larry’s mother.
“Yes; it will be very difficult,” she admitted. “But I mean to get a better education if I have to earn the money myself to pay my way through school.”
“Dear me!” said Mrs. Haven, smiling. “What a very determined girl! But—in your case, my dear—is an advanced education really worth while?”
“I think it is,” and this time Beth flushed. She recognized the critical note in her questioner’s voice, and she knew what it meant. “Don’t you think it was worth while for Larry to go to college?”