Frankie was abashed. She had an unbounded admiration for Minnie’s moral worth; the very fact of her being smaller, plainer and stupider than she was, was somehow proof of it. She really made an effort to look upon her ambition as selfish and petty and to concentrate her eager and vigorous mind solely on her father’s death.
Minnie had no ambition to give up. She supposed that in the course of time she would marry, and that would suffice. She was not able to show much sympathy for her sister’s intolerable disappointment.
“I know it’s hard to leave college and all that,” she said. “But after all, Frankie, I don’t think you’d have stuck it out for eight years. You wouldn’t have liked being a doctor, when the time came. Such a queer thing for a girl.”
“Nonsense!” cried Frances, angrily, “you have the stupidest, most antiquated ideas!”
“I’ll work my way through,” she went on, “I’ll be a waitress or something. But I won’t give up!”
Minnie began to cry.
“Please, Frankie, stay with me a little while,” she entreated. “I’m so lonely!”
Who could refuse?
IV
Cousin Ella advised them to accept the offer of their grandmother, their father’s mother. She was the only living soul who wanted them, anyway.