“He is good,” answered Lisa, in a little breathless way. “He is too good; but, oh, mamma, he doesn’t—oh, I don’t know.” And then from a full heart she told her mother all that had occurred which bore upon her acquaintance with Mr. Danforth.
“Well, my dear one, I am so glad you have come to me with all this. No one is a truer friend than your mother,” Mrs. Holmes assured her.
“That is what he said,” replied Lisa, in a low tone. “But perhaps I shall never see him again.”
“Oh, yes, you will! He has been offered and has accepted a position in the preparatory school, and some day perhaps he may occupy a professor’s chair at the university, unless some other profession attracts him more. Your father esteems him very highly, and I think there is little doubt but that you will see him again.”
Lisa lifted a flushed face to her mother. “Don’t tell papa,” she entreated.
“No, my dearie; but he will be very glad to know that you mean to be of some use in the world, and I am sure that he will encourage the kindergarten plan.”
And, therefore, to the great surprise of Persis and Mellicent, Lisa announced that her winter’s work was decided upon.
“Well, of all things!” said Persis. “I thought you were going in for society, and would be a tremendous success; and now to think all that grandeur is nipped in the bud.”
“It’s the bud that refuses to be nipped,” laughed Lisa. “The scorching breath of adulation might blight her, and she prefers to retain her pristine fragrance. Now you see how our ambitions change as we grow older. Instead of desiring to be the centre of admiration in the ball-room, I crave the adoration of a set of youngsters in a school-room. There is something unique in the ambition. Don’t you think so?”
“I should say there is,” returned Persis. “But you will be frivolous sometimes, I hope?”