no other way.

But now comes the need of earning a livelihood for yourself, and your
delicate mother.

I know you have gone over the list of your accomplishments and taken
stock of all your inherited and acquired qualities. You play the piano
well, but in these days of Paderewskies and pianolas, no one wants to
employ a young girl music-teacher. You do not sing, and if you did, that
would not afford you a means of support. The best of natural voices need
a fortune spent before half a fortune can be earned.

You dance like a fairy, and swim like a mermaid, and ride like an Indian
princess, but these accomplishments are not lucrative, save in a Midway
Plaisance or a Wild West show. You are well educated and your memory is
remarkable. You have a facility in mathematics, and your knowledge of
grammar and rhetoric will, as you say, enable you to pass the
examination for a teacher in the public schools after a little brushing
up and study. Then, with the political influence of your father's old
friends, you will no doubt be able to obtain a position.

I recollect you as surpassingly skilful with the needle. I know you
once saw a charming morning gown in Paris which I persuaded you not to
buy at the absurd price asked for it, after the merchant understood we
were Americans. And I remember how you passed to another department,
purchased materials, went home to our hotel, and cut and made a
surprising imitation of the gown at one-tenth the cost.

Why have you not considered turning this talent to account? Though the
world goes to war and ruin, yet women will dress, and the need of good