olourless voice, "try to get all you can out of
your school. I haven't sufficient means to educate you in drawing and
in similar accomplishments. So get all you can out of your school.
Because, some day, you will have to help yourself, and perhaps help us
a little."

He bent his head with a detached air and sat gazing mildly at
vacancy--already, perhaps, forgetting what the conversation was
about.

"Mother?"

"What, Rue?"

"What am I going to do to earn my living?"

"I don't know."

"Do you mean I must go into the mill like everybody else?"

"There are other things. Girls work at many things in these days."

"What kind of things?"

"They may learn to keep accounts, help in shops----"

"If father could afford it, couldn't I learn to do something more
interesting? What do girls work at whose fathers can afford to let
them learn how to work?"

"They may become teachers, learn stenography and typewriting; they
can, of course, become dressmakers; they can nurse----"

"Mother!"

"Yes?"

"Could I choose the business of drawing pictures? I know how!"

"Dear, I don't believe it is practical to----"

"Couldn't I draw pictures for books and magazines? Everybody says I
draw very nicely. You say so, too. Couldn't I earn enough money to
live on and to take care of you and father?"

Wilbour Carew looked up from his reverie:

"To learn to draw correctly and with taste," he said in his gentle,
pedantic voice, "requires a special training which we cannot afford to
give you, Ruhannah."

"Must I wait till I'm twenty-five before I can have my money?" she
asked for the hundredth time. "I do so need it to educate myself. Why
did grandma do such a thing, mother?"

"Your grandmother never supposed you would need the money until you
were a grown woman, dear. Your father and I were young, vigorous, full
of energy; your father's income was ample for us then."

"Have I got to marry a man before I can get enough money to take
lessons in drawing with?"

Her mother's drawn smile was not very genuine. When a child asks such
questions no mother finds it easy to smile.

"If you marry, dear, it is not likely you'll marry in order to take
lessons in drawing. Twenty-five is not old. If you still desire to
study art you will be able to do so."

"Twenty-five!" repeated Rue, aghast. "I'll be an old woman."

"Many begin their life's work at an older age----"

"Mother! I'd rather marry somebody and begin to study art. Oh, _don