"Probably Ellen is right," Hertha remarked later, "she usually is, though I don't think it was worth while my spending that last year in school, I was so homesick."
"You can never tell about an education," Tom said, wise in another's case.
Behind them came the sound of conversation, broken occasionally by a boisterous laugh. Some one was thrumming on a banjo and now and then singing a few lines from a popular song.
"What do you reckon it'll be like at school?" Tom asked.
"Oh, doing things. First one thing and then another until you're so tired at night you fall at once to sleep and wake up and start to do more things."
"That ain't much different from home."
Hertha did not answer. She never disputed but she thought Tom would find a difference.
They looked out into the starlight. "I was thinking," the boy said, "you're like that star up there." He pointed to a planet, bright in the heavens. "That's like you, beautiful and alone."
"Well!" She gave his arm a little squeeze. "But I'm not alone and neither is the star. See the little stars about."
"They don't count."