"All the same, you will be wanting to get rid of me one of these days," she returned, meaningly, and Garth reddened. "Besides, I don't mean to leave home for good and all; I want to go up to London and learn nursing in all its branches, and then I shall know if I am fit for it. A fair trial is all I ask; and if Garth consents, no one has a right to raise an objection," in an injured, appealing voice.
"You have chosen a noble profession," began Dr. Stewart warmly, but Mr. Logan quietly interrupted him.
"Granted, my dear sir, provided the motives are equally noble."
"Now, Cath, you are going to catch it from your Mentor," observed her brother in an amused tone. "Mr. Logan has discovered a flaw in your grand scheme."
"I suppose one can discover flaws in everything," returned the Vicar in a musing tone. "Youth is the time for great projects; sometimes they are another name for restlessness and discontent. Youth lights a candle,—a farthing dip-light sometimes,—and sets out through the world to look for duties, and leaves the hearth-stone cold, and old hearts growing chill round it. I have an old-fashioned notion, that woman's mission, in its perfectness, very rarely lies beyond the threshold of home."
"How about Florence Nightingale?" interrupted Cathy.
"Or Sarah Judson?" from Langley.
"Or Mrs. Fry? or Joan of Arc?" commented Dr. Stewart.
"Or we might add Grace Darling, and a score of others," put in Garth.
"All typical women, raised up in their generation to perform a certain work, and performing it right nobly. The world calls them heroines, and with reason. They are heroines in the true sense of the word, for they have discovered the needs of the world, and, recognizing their own power to remedy, have fearlessly dared to cross the threshold of home duty for the larger arena, where only the strong prevail and the weak go to the wall."