“We’ve had good times, haven’t we, Sylvia?  And I wonder if I have really taught you anything.  I suppose I ought to have been sending you to school with the other youngsters about here, but the fact is that I never saw a time when I wanted to part with you!  You’ve been a fine little shipmate, but you’re not so little any more.  Sixteen your next birthday!  If that’s so it isn’t best for us to go on this way.  You must try your oar in deeper water.  You’ve outgrown me—­and I’m a dull old fellow at best.  You must go where you will meet other girls, and deal with a variety of teachers,—­not just one dingy old fellow like me.  Have you ever thought what kind of a school you’d like to go to?”

“I don’t believe I have; I don’t know much about schools.”

“Well, don’t you think you’d like to get away from so much mathematics and learn things that will fit you to be entertaining and amusing?  You know I’ve taught you a lot of things just to amuse myself and they can never be of the slightest use to you.  I suppose you are the only girl of your age in America who can read the sextant and calculate latitude and longitude.  But, bless me, what’s the use?”

“Oh, if I could only—­”

“Only what?” he encouraged her.  He was greatly interested in getting her point of view, and it was perfectly clear that a great idea possessed her.

“Oh, if I could only go to college, that would be the finest thing in the world!”

“You think that would be more interesting than boarding-school?  If you go to college they may require Greek and you don’t even know what the letters look like!”

“Oh, yes, I know a little about it!”

“I think not, Sylvia.  How could you?”

“Oh, the letters were so queer, I learned them just for fun out of an old textbook I found on the campus one day.  Nobody ever came to claim it, so I read it all through and learned all the declensions and vocabularies, though I only guessed at the pronunciation.”

Professor Kelton was greatly amused.  “You tackled Greek just for fun, did you?” he laughed; then, after a moment’s absorption:  “I’m going to Indianapolis to-morrow and I’ll take you with me, if you care to go along.  In fact, I’ve written to Mrs. Owen that we’re coming, and I’ve kept this as a little surprise for you.”

So, after an early breakfast the next morning, they were off for the station in one of those disreputable, shaky village hacks that Dr. Wandless always called “dark Icarian birds,” with their two bags piled on the seat before them.  On the few railway journeys Sylvia remembered, she had been carried on half-fare tickets, an ignominy which she recalled with shame.  To-day she was a full-grown passenger with a seat to herself, her grandfather being engaged through nearly the whole of their hour’s swift journey in a political discussion with a lawyer who was one of the college trustees.

“I told Mrs. Owen not to meet us; it’s a nuisance having to meet people,” said the professor when they had reached the city.  “But she always sends a carriage when she expects me.”