"And we voted as a single man, didn't we?" said Evelyn.
"We did that same, Evelyn; we decided that we wanted but little here below, but that we wanted that little right away!"
"And I recall how magnanimously you promised to share my last crust with me," said Mr. Ferris, hitching Nan's chair nearer to him.
"Yes," continued she, "I'll never desert you. But I was going to say that I don't think I have kept my part of the agreement. You have given me advantages which even richer girls have not had, and I have not done a thing with them yet. I have had a whole year of idleness, and I'm tired of it, and want to go to work."
The family had heard something of this independent mood before, but, as nothing alarming came of it, they received this announcement without any demonstration of surprise; indeed, Mr. Ferris attended to the dissolution of the sugar in his second cup of tea before looking up, and then he said, "Yes?" with a slowly rising inflection.
"Yes!" came from Nan with a short downward one; "Yes, sir, and I have a plan this time, and wish to consult my beloved family before doing anything rash."
"So that you can do it afterward with a clear conscience, I suppose?" ventured her father, wickedly.
"No, I shall do something a hundred times rasher if you oppose this plan, for it is the least revolutionary thing I can think of."
"Well?"—said her father, inquiringly.
"You know how hard Aunt Hettie has tried to induce one of us to come down to New York and spend the winter with her and Uncle Nat, and how we have all begged off because they live so quietly and so far up town, we thought we should simply stagnate? I should like to go there this winter, not, I blush to say, for their sakes alone, but because I wish to study."