“We have lessons with our governess. She is strict, but a splendid teacher. Katherine is quite a first-rate Latin scholar.”
“Is Katherine fond of Chaucer?”
“Katherine cares more for science and—and philosophy.” Hilda spoke with a respectful gravity. “That’s why she called her dogs Darwin and Spencer. She hasn’t read any of Spencer yet, but of course he is a great philosopher. She knows that, and she has read a good deal of a big book by Darwin, ‘The Origin of Species,’ you know.”
“Yes, I know.” Odd found Katherine even more startling than her sister.
“I tried to read it, but it was so confusing—about selection and cabbages—I don’t see how cabbages can select, do you?” Hilda’s voice held a reminiscent vagueness. “Katherine says that she did not care for it much, but she thought she ought to look through it if she wanted a foundation; she is very keen on foundations, and she says Darwin is the foundation-key—or corner-stone—no, keystone to the arch of modern science—at least she did not say so, but she read me that from her journal.”
“Oh! Katherine wrote that, did she?”
“Yes; but you mustn’t think that Katherine is a blue-stocking.” Something in Odd’s tone made Hilda fear misunderstanding. “She loves sports of all kinds, and fun. She goes across country as well as any woman—that is what Lord Mainwaring said of her last winter during fox-hunting. She isn’t afraid of anything.”
“And what else do you do besides lessons?”
“Well, I read and walk; there are such famous walks all about here, walks in woods and on hills. I don’t care for roads, do you? And I stay with mamma and read to her when she is tired.”
“And Katherine?”