“Wash dishes at Greycliff, or something like it. Don’t you see? If it’s only money that is the matter, perhaps something can be done.”
“Oh, I’ve thought about that, and I couldn’t borrow or accept money from Cathalina or anybody, or have the girls get up a scholarship for me!”
“You’re too proud, Virginia Hope, for anybody that really wants to get an education. Why shouldn’t people with money help girls that want an education? All these schools raise money for their scholarships that way.”
“Oh, well, if it were something that I had earned by high scholarship, or because people thought I would be a credit to them, or they wanted to take that way of giving money to their school, or getting students for it and helping the ‘cause of education’—that would be different, but all the scholarships here are provided for, I guess.”
“Greycliff is poor, all right, for all that it is trying to do. When did your father say you would have to go home?”
“I’ll just let you read the letter,” said Virgie, who began to feel much better already, since she had confided in Isabel. “It’s a short one. I know how my father felt when he had to write it.”
Isabel perused the letter and sat thoughtfully a few moments, still perched on her bed against the pillows, with her writing materials strewn around her. Virginia sat on the edge of her cot, feeling for the first that there might be hope in Isabel’s suggestion.
“Why, say, Virgie, you don’t have to go right off!”
“No, it’s all paid up till the end of the first semester, so I’ll get my grades and standing anyhow, and perhaps some time I can come back.”
“Now, listen, Virgie. Your father says that he can send you money at the end of the first semester to take you home and that is all he can do without getting in debt and that he doesn’t dare do. Very sensible. He knows that you are going home with me for Christmas, doesn’t he?”