"I repeat," she piped, turning to Elinor with a jerky bow, "I repeat my question. Why were you admitted to our class without having worked in any antique or life classes before?",
Patricia and Elinor swept a swift, remembering glance at the pale, eager face, and the memory of that scene in the old bookroom at Greycroft, when Judith had the vision of her future, flashed into each mind. They had had no laughter then for Judith's prophecy of her literary career, and so now they had only instant sympathy with their little sister's enthusiasm.,
I know now that I really never got any older than the poor, foolish, eighteen-years child that Aunt Adeline married off "safe." But all that was a mild sort of exasperation to what a widow has to go through with in the matter of—of, well, I think worrying interference is about the best name to give it..
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