next oldest to Celandine is on'y ten; and if I was to starve I wouldn't
have him to sell papers or black boots, and his father a foreman; and
the' ain't no call for office-boys nowadays, 'r else it's because
Augustus is so small for his age--"

"We have an office-boy," murmured Mrs. Tarbell.

"I know, ma'am," said Mrs. Stiles. "Leastways, I guessed as much. I was
thinking of asking you about Celandine." Mrs. Tarbell stirred uneasily,
and Mrs. Stiles hurried on: "Celandine and me we were talking things
over the other day,--we've been reading about you in the newspapers,
Mrs. Tarbell, nigh on to four years now; Celandine has always been a
comprehending child, precocious, as they say, and quick-witted, and
she's been watching your career, ma'am, just as clost as you could
yourself. And the day you was admitted she come home,--a friend of hers
gave her the afternoon paper,--and she says, 'Mother,' she says, 'Mrs.
Tarbell is admitted!'--just like it was a personal friend of yours, Mrs.
Tarbell; and reely, ma'am, I suppose I oughtn't to say it, but there's
been a good many women all over this country felt themselves personal
friends of yours, ma'am, knowing how much there was meant by your
success and feeling how near the question come to themselves; and if
good wishes brings good luck, that's what you have to thank for
succeeding. But Celandine she's an ambitious girl, Mrs, Tarbell, and the
long and the short of it is just this, that she's set her heart on being
a lawyer, and she's either too shy or too proud, mebbe, to come here
with me to speak to you, ma'am: so I just put on my bunnit the first day
I could, rain or shine, and rain it's turned out to be, to say a word to
you about her and just ask you what you _thought_."

"A lawyer?" gasped Mrs. Tarbell.