This duty Cathy had borne sweetly, for her mother was a doleful companion, who was making the mistake of casting a shadow over this daughter's life because her only other daughter had not been spared to her. This grief and the loss of her husband many years before had not taught her to make the lives of those still left to her as happy as possible; yet Cathy cheerfully made "sunshine in a shady place," while Fred manfully shouldered his father's business, which weighed heavily on his young shoulders. "But I do want an object in life besides," continued Cathy, "for staying where I am put is only half my duty. If I should relieve Mother of the housekeeping I believe she would die, so I can't follow Evelyn's example. What _can_ I do?" she asked mournfully. Nan was reflecting that there were three kinds of girls,--those who led, like Bert; those who are led, like Evelyn; and those who must be pushed, like Cathy. "And maybe it is my duty to push," she thought. "Well, Catherine," she began, settling herself in her chair, "would you really like to earn your own living?" "Yes; I most certainly should like to do something toward it, for I have often wondered if dear old Fred didn't forego part of his own profits from the nursery for our sakes. Did you girls find out your vocations all alone, without any help or suggestion from others?" she continued. "Bert did, of course," said Nan. "Who ever knew her to take advice from anybody? But Evelyn and I talked all day and all night, and alternately propped each other's falling spirits, and last night the jury of the entire family sat upon us!" "Oh, yes----" and Cathy sighed again. "But you see I have nobody. Mother wouldn't be interested, and Fred wouldn't hear of such a thing. He thinks a girl should be very feminine, and let her brother support her if she has no father. No, I must get on without sympathy." "But you shan't! _I'm_ here on purpose to help you as I have been helped. I feel it my duty to pass on the impulse." "You are a dear, good girl, and I love you," Cathy said gratefully. "I'll be your humble servant and do just what you tell me. I wish I could go to New York with you and take lessons in flower-painting." "You'd never get rich selling a daisy and a lily and a little buttercup. You would better go to raising golden-rod in your brother's nursery, and then peddle it about the city, filling people's fireplaces at a dollar apiece!" "I wish I could. Do you know, I should just love to raise flowers----" "_That's it!_" screamed Nan delightedly. "Just the thing! Have a hot-house,--cut-flowers for the million,--beat Haas & Schaeffer out of town! You could do it, Cathy; you have exquisite taste in flowers, and everybody will be crazy to have a basket or bouquet from the high-art green-house! We girls will always buy of you,--why, Haas sent me a lot of carnations for the Atwood party without any _stems_ to them----"