'Then let me think about it really, Felix. Promise that I may be when I am old enough.'
'It is impossible to promise that; but I do not think I am likely to hinder you, if you then wish it, and it seems right.'
'I wish you would promise me. Look here, Felix,' and the eyes assumed a deep yearning expression; 'I always did think that if I had a dedication, like Clement, I could be as good as he is. But I don't think anything else would put the duke or the opera out of my head.'
'My dear Angel,' and Felix's eyes grew soft too, 'I could not wish anything better for you than to be such another as Sister Constance, but I do not know how you could be dedicated. Even Clement is not; he could change his mind before he is three-and-twenty. It all depends on how he goes on.'
'And if I go on well, will you let me look to it?'
'As far as may be right.'
'Only then what is the use of my going to this school, if I am not to turn governess? It only makes me worse.'
'No, Angela. It would not be right to stop your education. You must have the means of maintaining yourself. It would be against my duty to hinder that. And remember—some Sisterhoods require an endowment. You would not wish to be a burthen. You may have to work to raise means for admission; and if you are set to teach, you will need all you are learning now.'
'May I think I am preparing?'
'Yes.'