"Well,"—Sylvia gave a long-drawn sigh,—"I will not press you, though of course I'm curious."
"You're very good; and now I'll come to the other discovery which kept me awake. We found your sketches last evening."
Edna paused.
"Yes, I forgot them." Sylvia's companion noted the light that came into her eyes. "I suppose they are only daubs to you, but I was so happy doing them!"
"And we were happy looking at them. I can't think that with all that talent you are not hoping to study."
"Of course I hope; but against hope, for who would take enough interest"—
"Your uncle. I. Every friend you have."
Sylvia's lips parted eagerly. "Did Uncle Calvin really feel it was worth while?"
"Indeed he did. You can't remain at this blessed little farm all next winter, hibernating. How should you like to come to Boston and study?"
"Oh, it is my ideal!" Sylvia clasped her hands.