"We can go around that way. It isn't much of a building," Hilary answered.
"I suppose it serves its purpose."
"It is said to be a very good school for the size of the place." Hilary turned Bedelia up the little by-road, leading to the old weather-beaten schoolhouse, standing back from the road in an open space of bare ground.
"You and Pauline are through here?" her uncle asked.
"Paul is. I would've been this June, if I hadn't broken down last winter."
"You will be able to go on this fall?"
"Yes, indeed. Dr. Brice said so the other day. He says, if all his patients got on so well, by not following his advice, he'd have to shut up shop, but that, fortunately for him, they haven't all got a wise uncle down in New York, to offer counter-advice."
"Each in his turn," Mr. Shaw remarked, adding, "and Pauline considers herself through school?"
"I—I suppose so. I know she would like to go on—but we've no higher school here and—She read last winter, quite a little, with father. Pauline's ever so clever."
"Supposing you both had an opportunity—for it must be both, or neither, I judge—and the powers that be consented—how about going away to school this winter?"