“I’m in earnest, Uncle David. I don’t know whether I would be better fitted to earn my living if I went to business college or real college. What do you think?”
“I can’t think,—I’m stupefied.”
“Uncle Peter couldn’t think, either.”
“Have you mentioned this brilliant idea to Peter?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“He talked it over with me, but I think he thinks I’ll change my mind.”
“I think you’ll change your mind. Good heavens! Eleanor, we’re all able to afford you—the little we spend on you is nothing divided among six of us. It’s our pleasure and privilege. When did you come to this extraordinary decision?”
“A long time ago. The day that Mrs. Bolling talked to me, I think. There are things she said that I’ve never forgotten. I told Uncle Peter to think about it and then help me to decide which to do, and I want you to think, Uncle David, and tell 216 me truly what you believe the best preparation for a business life would be. I thought perhaps I might be a stenographer in an editorial office, and my training there would be more use to me than four years at college, but I don’t know.”
“You’re an extraordinary young woman,” David said, staring at her. “I’m glad you broached this subject, if only that I might realize how extraordinary, but I don’t think anything will come of it, my dear. I don’t want you to go to college unless you really want to, but if you do want to, I hope you will take up the pursuit of learning as a pursuit and not as a means to an end. Do you hear me, daughter?”