“Fortune? I’ve only got thirty-five cents and I’m in debt for that!”
“It’s a failure, then?” she asked, maliciously.
“Of course it isn’t a failure!” I insisted, desperately. “Two years of it have helped me very much. I mean to get more of it, aunt!”
“But you look poorly dressed, and you tell me that you’re poorer than the day you went. I always thought education meant getting along in life!”
“It does mean getting along in life,” I argued, “but not necessarily getting along in money—or even good clothes. It has to do with the mind—with the thinking powers—eh—”
She burst into mocking laughter and said:
“Oh, that’s it? Then maybe you’ll not be needing bed and board now that you’ve had two years of education,—is that the state of things?”
“Oh, you don’t understand, aunt. Of course you can’t do much in the world with only two years of it. It needs several years of it before you can really get a position in which money or prestige may be made. I’m only just on the way: in the first stages.”
“Then why aren’t you in it? What have you come back to us for? I suppose you are short of money and want us to help you along in your brainless undertaking, eh?”
“Have I asked a cent from you during the last two years, aunt?” I asked with some show of spirit. “Haven’t I earned my own living even when I have been at home? Is it likely that I’ll ask you to help me through now?”