"Why, Lanse!" began Celia, and stopped.
He glanced meaningly at her, and the colour flashed back into her cheeks. In the next instant she had followed his lead.
"If Lanse can stay out of college, I can, too," she said, with decision.
"If I could get some fairly good position," Lanse proposed, "I ought to be able to earn enough to--well, we're rather a large family, and our appetites----"
"I could do something," began Charlotte, eagerly. "I could--I could do sewing----"
At that there was a general howl, which quite broke the solemnity of the occasion. "Charlotte--sewing!" they cried.
"Why not take in washing?" urged Lanse.
"Or solicit orders for fancy cooking?"
"Or tutor stupid little boys in languages? Come! Fiddle--stick to your specialty."
Charlotte's face was a study as she received these hints. They represented the things she disliked most and could do least well. Yet they were hardly farther afield than her own suggestion of sewing. Charlotte's inability with the needle was proverbial.