"You do sing beautifully," said Marian. "I've heard you." "Yes, but I mean a great singer." "On the stage?" inquired Patty. "Yes, or in concerts; I don't care where, but I mean to sing wonderfully; to sing as I feel I could sing, if I had the opportunity." "You mean a musical education and foreign study and all those things?" said Patty. "Yes," said Nan. "But after all that you might fail," said Marian, remembering her own experiences. "Yes, I might, and probably I should. It's only a dream, you know, but we were talking about ambitions, and that's mine." "And can't you accomplish it?" "I don't see how I can; my parents are very much opposed to it. They hate anything like a public career, and they think I sing quite well enough now without further instructions." "I think so, too," said Patty. "I'd rather hear you sing those quaint little songs of yours than to hear the most elaborate trills and frills that any prima donna ever accomplished." "Your opinion is worth a great deal to me, Patty, as a friend, but technically, I can't value it so highly." "Of course, I don't know much about music," said Patty, quite unabashed; "but papa thinks so too. He said your voice is the sweetest voice he ever heard." "Did he?" said Nan. "What is your ambition, Patty?" said Marian, after a moment's pause. "Nan and I have expressed ourselves so frankly you might tell us yours." "My ambition?" said Patty. "Why, I never thought of it before, but I don't believe I have any. I feel rather ashamed, for I suppose every properly equipped young woman ought to have at least one ambition, and I don't seem to have a shadow of one. Really great ones, I mean. Of course, I can sing a little; not much, but it seems to be enough for me. And I can play a little on the piano and on the banjo, and I suppose it's shocking; but really I don't care to play any better than I do. I can't paint, and I can't write stories, but I don't want to do either." "You can keep house," said Marian. Patty's eyes lighted up. "Yes," she said; "isn't it ridiculous? But I do really believe that's my ambition. To keep house just perfectly, you know, and have everything go not only smoothly but happily." "You ought to have been a _chatelaine_ of the fourteenth century," said Nan. "Yes," said Patty eagerly; "that's just my ambition. What a pity it's looking backward instead of forward. But I would love to live in a great stone castle, all my own, with a moat and drawbridge and outriders, and go around in a damask gown with a pointed bodice and big puffy sleeves and a ruff and a little cap with pearls on it, and a bunch of keys jingling at my side." "They usually carry the keys in a basket," observed Marian; "and you forgot to mention the falcon on your wrist." "So I did," said Patty, "but I think the falcon would be a regular nuisance while I was housekeeping, so I'd put him in the basket, and set it up on the mantelpiece, and keep my keys jingling from my belt."