“But children must grow up,” said the major with a sigh, “and Dorothy is a fine girl—a Dale—every inch of her!”
That Dorothy was indeed growing to be very handsome was a matter that Mrs. White contemplated with pardonable pride. Dorothy was now her especial charge; she would enter society under her safe chaperonage. Of course she would first finish her education; and the aunt hoped that her niece would not decide to take the higher branches, inasmuch as this would keep her longer separated from her relatives. There is plenty of time Mrs. White decided to learn in our own little world without spending precious time buried in colleges, forming ideas that are sure to conflict with the regular home life, and perhaps, depriving one’s family of the most precious years of a girl’s career—the time between morning and noon in the life of mortals.
That evening, while Dorothy was dressing for dinner, her aunt mentioned the matter to her.
“Of course, Dorothy dear,” she said as she watched the girl arrange her beautiful hair, “it is all very well to take a college course if you think you would not be satisfied to live in the home-world always. But your brothers are growing up, and a sister’s influence is of so much account to growing lads. I hope you will be satisfied to stay home with us, after you have finished at Glenwood.”
“I’m sure I’m very lonely away from you all,” answered Dorothy, “and, as you say, it is not likely I will ever want to take up a profession. Therefore I can best finish my education along the lines I will be required to be most proficient in.”
“That’s my own Dorothy,” said her aunt.
It was a merry party that sat down to the bountifully supplied table. Major Dale was, of course, at the head, and Mrs. White occupied the seat of honor at the other end, while Dorothy and Ned, then Nat and Joe, with Roger next his father, made up the family party.
Roger insisted on knowing just what Dorothy usually had for dinner at Glenwood, and upon learning how extremely simple the school menu was he decided at once he would never go to boarding school.
“When’s Tavia coming?” asked Nat, endeavoring to hide his particular interest in that question by trying, prematurely to swallow an unusually large mouthful of food.
“She promised to come in a few weeks,” answered Dorothy. “She expects to visit Buffalo first.”