“But think, Dad! I've cost you so much already!”
“I am glad you have, dear. I think I've needed that. And I want you to go back to the Art League. You have a real talent. We must make the most of it.” Betty's gaze strayed out the window. Her father was a dear man. She hadn't dreamed he could see into her problems like this. She was afraid she might cry, so she spoke quickly.
“But that means making me still more a burden!”
“It is the sort of burden 1 would love, Betty. But don't misunderstand me—I can't do all this now.”
“Oh, I know!”
“You may have to be patient for a time. Tell me, dear, first though... is it what you want most?”
“Oh... why...”
“Answer me if you can. If you know what you want most.”
“I wonder if I do know. It's when I try to think that out clearly that it seems to me I'm no good.”
“I recognize, of course, that you are reaching the age when many girls think of marrying.”