Against the windows of the Eyrie the storm beat relentlessly--rain and hail; gusts of wind, sounding like witches' voices around the gable. The girls stretched out on the floor. Sheila shut the book she had been reading. Pat pulled Keineth's head into her lap that she might "play," as she called it, with the bright curls escaping from the band that held them back.
"You'd almost think there were fairies around! Listen!" Keineth held up her hand. "It makes me think of a story poor Tante used to tell me about the kind fairies who came to whisper to the princess what she should do when she had been shut in the tower of the castle by the wicked prince. Tante used to try and make me understand how one could learn something from all those fairy tales--the wicked prince was our own selfish natures, the beautiful princess was, of course, our bestest selves that we'd shut away in the prison tower and the fairy voices that whispered and sang 'round the tower were the voices of Opportunity! But, dear me, I used to think it was more fun just to believe that the princess was a real princess!"
"I wish a fairy would come right now and tell me what would rhyme with "long" besides "song!" sighed Pat.
"And I wish a fairy would just guide my fingers for me," put in little Renée from her corner.
"Let's all tell what we want to be," cried Peggy. "I've always said I was going to be an actress! I was in a play once and did awfully well! But Barbara met Ethel Barrymore when she visited college and she told the girls that only a few of the women who go on the stage are really happy or become famous! I don't believe Barb told her about me but Barb got the idea that she sort of--meant me! And Billy--or Garrett--says my feet are too big, anyway, and I guess he's right! So now I'm trying to decide whether to be a chemist or a doctor! I love to fuss with the cunning little dishes and mix up all sorts of things, and if I don't blow myself up Dad says I'll be all right. But I'd like to be a doctor, too!" Poor Peggy's forehead wrinkled in a deep frown over the perplexing problem of her future.
"My father says that after four more years of school he will take me abroad to study my music from great masters! And I will learn to play and to write beautiful music!" said Keineth softly, looking as though off in the shadows of the room she could see her dearest dreams come true.
"Your turn, Ren!"
Renée blushed under the serious glances turned toward her. "I've wanted ever since I was a little girl, to make things out of clay and marble, like my father used to make--and Emile. Emile had promised to teach me when I was older. My mother could never bear to see the clay and tools around, it made her very sad, I think because it made her think of my poor father. One summer mother and Emile and I went to the sea, and when we'd sit on the beach Emile would help me make rabbits and cats and birds out of the wet sand. I love to draw and paint, but when I am older I shall learn to carve, too!"
"Now, Sheila!"
Sheila laughed. "Goodness, girls, I've never had a moment to make nice dreams like yours! I did want to learn to play the piano----" she stopped short; the hurt of disappointment and the smart of remorse had not healed in her heart. "But I never could have earned any money--with it! I just want to hurry through school as fast as I can so that I do something that will help the boys and mother along! They'll want, maybe, to go to college! I think I'd like sometime to be a nurse! I'm awfully big and strong, you see, and mother has taught me a lot of sensible things!"