"
"And we starve you--intellectually?"
"You know I don't think that. But you are busy...."
"Aren't you being perhaps a little impatient, Eleanor? After all--you
are barely eighteen.... We have given you all sorts of liberties."
Her silence admitted it. "But still," she said after a long pause,
"there are other girls, younger than I am, in these things. They talk
about--oh, all sorts of things. Freely...."
"You've been awfully good to me," she said irrelevantly. "And of course
this meeting was all pure accident."
Father and daughter remained silent for awhile, seeking a better grip.
"What exactly do you want, Eleanor?" he asked.
She looked up at him. "Generally?" she asked.
"Your mother has the impression that you are discontented."
"Discontented is a horrid word."
"Well--unsatisfied."
She remained still for a time. She felt the moment had come to make her
demand.
"I would like to go to Newnham or Somerville--and work. I feel--so
horribly ignorant. Of all sorts of things. If I were a son I should
go--"
"Ye--es," said the bishop and reflected.
He had gone rather far in the direction of the Woman Suffrage people;
he had advocated equality of standard in all sorts of matters, and the
memory of these utterances hampered him.
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