In the sudden silence that followed, Miss Stephanie Crawford called from across the room,
Whatcha going to be when you grow up, Jean Louise? A lawyer?”
“Nome, I hadn’t thought about it…” I answered, grateful that Miss Stephanie was kind enough to change the subject.
Hurriedly I began choosing my vocation. Nurse? Aviator?
“Well…” “Why shoot, I thought you wanted to be a lawyer, you’ve already commenced going to court.”
The ladies laughed again. “That Stephanie’s a card,” somebody said.
Miss Stephanie was encouraged to pursue the subject: “Don’t you want to grow up to be a lawyer?”
Miss Maudie’s hand touched mine and I answered mildly enough, “Nome, just a lady.”
Miss Stephanie eyed me suspiciously, decided that I meant no impertinence, and contented herself with,
“Well, you won’t get very far until you start wearing dresses more often.”
Miss Maudie’s hand closed tightly on mine, and I said nothing. Its warmth was enough.
Mrs. Grace Merriweather sat on my left, and I felt it would be polite to talk to her.
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