"Yes; he advised me to leave off my Latin and go to work at French. He said that the modern languages would be more useful to me if I ever studied medicine."
"I was thinking," said Mary, "that if we studied French, Flora might join us, and it would be so good for her to have something to think of besides her everlasting sewing machine, and tucks, and ruffles."
"I didn't think of that, I am ashamed to say," replied Eben. "Flora likes languages too, and she is a very good Latin scholar, considering. I believe we will do that thing, Mary, and we will set about it directly."
Flora entered into the plan with enthusiasm, and henceforth an hour of every evening was spent over the French grammar and exercises. Mrs. Fairchild was much pleased with the arrangement.
"It's so much nicer for you to be doing something that you can all do together," was her comment. "My grandfather used to say that the day was the time for separate work and the evening for sociability. He was a very sensible man, was Grandfather Fisher. I think Eben takes after him more than any of the other children. Sister Fletcher's children ain't a bit like the family. They're all Fletcher."
Eben smiled, as he often did, to see how entirely his mother had forgotten the fact of his being an adopted child.
"Did you ever study French, Aunty Fairchild?" asked Mary.
"Oh yes; when I went to school in Ithaca, we had a native French master, the nicest and funniest old man that ever was, who used to give us sugar-plums when we learned our lessons well. I don't suppose I could remember a word, though. Yes, I learned French and music. I could play quite a good deal before I was married, and Mr. Fairchild always said he meant Flora should have a piano and learn to play. Dear me! How different things do turn out from what we expect! But, after all, we might be a good deal worse off. Your dear father was so unhappy about leaving us. I often wish that he could look at us and know how nicely we get on, after all."
"Perhaps he does," said Eben.
The French went on prosperously, and Eben found a new and most unexpected help in Jeduthun Cooke. One most uncompromisingly rainy day, when there was not likely to be much doing at the mill, Eben ventured to carry his French grammar up with his dinner-basket to amuse himself with in his hour of intermission at noon. He fancied himself alone in the counting-room, and was busily going over with, "How many figs has the grocer?" when the question was unexpectedly answered in good French by a voice behind him. He turned round in a hurry, and saw Jeduthun standing in the door.