“I don’t know,” said Carey. “I want them to be where physical science is an object. Or do you think that thorough classical training is a better preparation than taking up any individual line?”
“I believe it is easier to learn how to learn through languages than through anything else.”
“And to be taught how to learn is a much greater thing than to be crammed,” said Carey. “Of course when one begins to teach oneself, the world has become “mine oyster,” and one has the dagger. The point becomes how to sharpen the dagger.”
At that moment three or four young people rushed in with arms full of books, and announcing that the uncle and aunt were coming. The next moment they appeared, and stood amazed at the accession of volunteer auxiliaries. Mr. Ogilvie introduced his sister, while Caroline explained that she was an old friend,—meanwhile putting up a hand to feel for her cap, as she detected in Ellen’s eyes those words, “Caroline, your cap.”
“We came to see how you were getting on,” said the Colonel, kindly.
“Thank you, we are getting on capitally. And oh, Robert, Mr. Ogilvie will tell you; he thinks Armine too—too—I mean he thinks he had better not go into school yet,” she added, thankful that she had not said “too clever for the school.”
The Colonel turned aside with the master to discuss the matter, and the ladies went into the drawing-room, the new room opening on the lawn, under a verandah, with French windows. It was full of furniture in the most dire confusion. Mrs. Robert Brownlow wanted to clear off at once the desks and other things that seemed school-room properties, saying that a little room downstairs had always served the purpose.
“That must be nurse’s sitting-room,” said Carey.
“Old nurse! She can be of no use, my dear!”
“Oh yes, she is; she has lived with us ever since dear grandmamma married, and has no home, and no relations. We could not get on without dear old nursey!”