Though she did her best both for home and hamlet,
Beatrice often chafed against the narrowness of her limits.
It was a sore point that she had been obliged to leave school at sixteen,
and devote herself to domestic pursuits,
and while not regretting the sacrifice,
she often lamented the two years lopped off her education.
“I’m so behind, I never could go in even for the matric. now,” she sighed sometimes.
“If I could have realized my ambition, I’d have studied for a lady doctor.”
Since the profession of medicine was utterly and entirely out of the question,
Beatrice often consoled herself by planning that when the children were old enough to do without her,
she would go as a nurse to a big London hospital, and rise to be a ward sister,
or perhaps–who knew?–even a matron.