"I suppose I can't enter into this tremendous earnestness of yours as I ought," sighed Rob. "It seems to me that we both have only to lead good, kind, sweet tempered lives, and be ready for our work when it comes. I think a vocation ought to mean being called, and not calling—with a megaphone, too—to all sorts of distant duties to come and switch us off our track. We are young, Hester."
"Eighteen; quite old enough to find ourselves, Rob," said Hester.
"Yes, and I'm wearing my hair in full blown young-lady fashion; my bow is gone—did you notice, Hester?" said Rob, refusing to rise to Hester's heights. "But for mercy's sake, Hessie dear, don't adopt soulful slang! I've heard seven separate women, one lecturer and six private—geese?—talk about 'finding ourselves' lately! There's something in set soulful phrases that affects my stout nerves."
"Yes," assented Hester with entire sympathy. "I didn't know I said it; those things are so catching! You see, Rob, you wouldn't care for a society life, any more than I do! It is full of catch phrases and catch ways."
"Hessie, Hessie, what are you trying to get at?" cried Rob. "You know I have as much desire for a society life as there is prospect of my leading one! But I don't see why you can't 'just be happy'; wasn't that the burden of one of James Whitcomb Riley's poems? Why can't you dance and play, and be eighteen, only, with all your might, and let the future take care of itself? I declare you are very like our Lydia! She convulsed Wythie last night by suddenly demanding, when poor Wythiekins came into the kitchen, if she didn't think she ought to take the pledge! Wythie felt satisfied with her naturally temperate tendencies, but Lydia thought she should sign as an example, chiefly to the Rutherfords, who are sobriety itself! Don't you think you magnify your office more as Lyddie does than as St. Paul did?"
Hester laughed. "I think one ought to make up one's mind definitely to something," she insisted. "Rob, truthfully, do you think you would like to marry?"
Rob laughed long and merrily. "Not this afternoon," she cried. "I'll let you know if I feel differently to-morrow."
"No, but don't you think if a girl knows positively that she will never marry, and nothing can change her mind, that she ought to act differently from a girl who is willing to entertain the thought?"
Rob laughed again. "I notice the thought entertains most girls," she said. "We have spoken on this tremendous subject also, Hessie. It never occurs to me to make up my mind for good and for all about anything. I have lived only eighteen years, but I have changed my tastes lots of times, for food, for people, for amusements—for lots of things. I don't know how I shall feel at twenty, much more at five and twenty. I'm perfectly happy, and I'm not over the border of little girlhood—I wish I could romp and play dolls without shocking people. And I've had a hard fight, and tasted care and even sorrow, so it seems to be almost wrong to go on twisting and distorting these lovely young days the way you do, Hessie dear. You haven't told me what it is that has set you out this time, however?"