"It is not for you to say whether or not anything is worthy when it has once been given you to do. You have only to do it and make it worthy by the doing. When you have proved yourself capable, another task will be given you, but not before. You hate the vineyard because you cannot raise good grapes, you hate to teach school because you cannot teach school well. You want to find something easy to do—something that will require no effort."
"No," he interrupted, "you're mistaken there. I want to do something great—I'm not asking for anything easy."
"I Belong Here"
"Greatness comes slowly," she answered, her voice softening a little, "and by difficult steps—not by leaps and bounds. You must learn the multiplication table before you can be an astronomer. None the less, it is your right to choose."
"Then, granting that, why wouldn't you come with me?"
"Because it is also my right to choose for myself and I belong here. When I identified myself with the Marsh family, I did it in good faith. When I was married, I came here, my children were born here, your father and brother and sister died here, and I shall die here too. When you go, I shall do my best with the vineyard."
She spoke valiantly, but there was a pathetic little quiver in her lips as she said the last words. Alden stood at the window, contemplating the broad acres bordered with pine.
"Do not say when I go, Mother—say if I go."
"I thought you had decided," she murmured, but her heart began to beat quickly, nevertheless.
"No, I haven't, but I'll decide in the course of the day. Good-bye for the present."