"Poor darling! you shall not go back to it," cried Helen.
But Marion threw off her caressing hand.
"Don't, Helen!" she said, sharply. "I can't bear pity, even from you. But I have talked enough of myself. You both know what I am going to do: to make a fortune by some means. Now it is your turn, Claire, to tell your ambition."
"You know it very well," answered Claire, quietly. "I am going to be an artist, and perhaps, if God helps me, to make a name."
"Yes, I know," said Marion, gloomily. "Yours is a noble ambition, and I think you will succeed."
"I hope so," responded Claire, looking out on the sunset with her earnest eyes. "At least I know that I have resolution and perseverance, and I used to hear my father say that with those things even mediocre talent could do much."
"And yours is not mediocre. Yet you talk of being sorry to leave here, with such a prospect before you."
"Such a battle, too. And people say that the world is very hard and stern to those who fight it single-handed."
"So much the better!" cried Marion, flinging back her head with an air of defiance. "There will be so much the more glory in triumph."
"You never seem to think of failure," observed Claire, with a smile. "But now Helen must tell us what she desires her future to be."