“Well, they needn’t be. I’m sure that I never display my knowledge, and besides, I haven’t much to display. They’d find it out if they’d talk with me.”
“Oh, Julia! You do know a tremendous amount. I feel all shrivelled up when I think of it. Besides, every one has heard about the operetta. I feel proud enough, I can tell you, when any one speaks to me about it.”
“You used to object to a learned cousin.”
“I don’t now, as long as she doesn’t make her learning a reproach to me. That’s one thing very nice about you, Julia, you never scold me for not going to college.”
“You may come to it yet. Besides, you are studying this winter, are you not?”
“Now, Julia, don’t ask me how many times I’ve gone to my Literature class. There’s so often a luncheon or something more interesting that comes the same day, and when there isn’t I’m too tired to enjoy it. So I’ve missed more or less, but there’s a Current Events on Mondays and I’m always there. It gives me something to talk about, and I’m thankful enough, with a stupid partner, to fall back on Armenian atrocities, or the Abolition of the House of Lords, or even the Silver Question.”
“A little learning is a dangerous thing,” quoted Julia, and Brenda replied brightly:
“But less is more dangerous, and Nora says—there, that reminds me, have you heard of the engagement?”
“Not Nora’s?” queried Julia.
“No, indeed. Nora says that she’s going to Radcliffe next year, and she isn’t likely to let herself be interfered with by anything so frivolous as an engagement. But I should think that you might have guessed. It’s Frances.”