ly physically would do as much
for her mentally? "Aunt Will," as the girl called her, had none of these
misgivings. This beautiful physique she believed to be the effect of her
own foresight and care--of proper food and clothing, of training in the
gymnasium, riding and walking. It was itself an earnest of the success
of her plans, and made her confident for the future. One of the tenets
of her faith was that Eleanor needed only to decide in what direction to
exert herself, and that in any career success was certain. For this
reason she gave her opportunities of every kind, that her choice might
be unlimited.

In this, as in every other opinion, Eleanor agreed with her aunt, not
through vanity, but through respect and habit. What she intended to
become was the theme of long confidences between us when alone together,
for the time which most other girls of her age devote to dreams of love
and lovers was employed by her in speculations about her future
profession. The artlessness of the girl in thus appropriating to herself
the whole field of human wisdom would have been ludicrous had it not
been so frank: it reminded you of a child reaching out its chubby hands
to seize the moon.

In regard to love and marriage, Aunt Will was most resolute in speaking
against them, and by precept and example she endeavored to influence her
niece in the same direction. "It is a state which mentally
unfits a woman for anything"--a dictum which was accepted by Eleanor
without argument. It was understood that her life was to be devoted to
being great, not to being loved. But Aunt Will refused to lend her help
or advice in deciding what the career should be, believing that the
prophetic fire would kindle itself without human help, and fearing that
the least hint of what she desired might fetter a waking genius, though
the girl often plaintively remarked, "I wish aunt would settle it for
me."

The entire faith with which these two women looked forward to the future
roused no little curiosity on my part as to the realization of their
hopes. A year after our acquaintance began the ladies left R---- to
travel abroad. Eleanor assured me solemnly that she should not return
until she had won renown, that vision of so many young hearts on leaving
home. "The great trouble is to decide what to do;" and here she sighed.
"But Aunt Will says our work shapes itself without our knowing. Some
morning we wake and find it ready for our hands, with no more d