Cathy winced, but she maintained her ground unflinchingly.
"Ask Garth and Langley what they think on that subject."
"She is leading us a sad life about it," returned Garth, tilting his chair that he might have a better view of Queenie. Somehow the combination of the dark dress and roses took his fancy. Miss Marriott was certainly very pretty to-night; even Dr. Stewart seemed to find a certain witchery in the dark eyes, at least Garth thought so, which put him a trifle out of humor. He had been so long without a rival in Hepshaw, that the introduction of this sudden new element of manhood was likely to disturb his equanimity. "Langley says there are no valid objections, so I suppose we shall have to let her go."
"Let us ask Dr. Stewart what he thinks of it," put in Langley, and, to her sister's relief, she quietly turned to him, and gave a brief sketch of Cathy's plan, to which he listened with ready interest, asking a question here and there in a skilful professional manner. When he was in possession of all the facts, he turned to Cathy.
"I don't see why it should not answer; at least you might give it a trial. I like your idea of every woman being trained to a definite employment; I never could understand the enforced helplessness of the sex. I have known pitiable examples of women being left dependent on over-taxed brothers, or turned upon the world absolutely without resources."
"Your rule holds good with generalities, but in Miss Catherine's case," began Mr. Logan, but Cathy somewhat proudly interrupted him.
"If it be Miss Catherine's wish to be independent, and hold her own against the world, no one has a right to interfere. No," speaking with sparkling eyes, and a certain storminess of manner, "I am not one of those women who could bear to be cramped and swathed with the swaddling-clothes of conventionality; I claim my right to work for work's sake, and to be as free as any other of God's creatures."
"You are quite right, Miss Clayton; I admire your sentiments," observed Dr. Stewart.
"Hear, hear," from Garth, somewhat sarcastically. He did not wholly approve of his wilful little sister's plan. "Bless me, child, you are hardly more than eighteen; you seem in a vast hurry to make yourself independent of your brother; no one wants to get rid of you, you little monkey."
Cathy melted a little at that. She gave him an affectionate glance.