And a plan was maturing in her brain, while
the fight went on within herself, thus:
"You'll never do it, Fanny. You're not built that way."
"Oh, won't I! Watch me! Give me time."
"You'll think of what your mother would have done under the
same conditions, and you'll do that thing."
"I won't. Not unless it's the long-headed thing to do. I'm
through being sentimental and unselfish. What did it bring
her? Nothing!"
The weeks went by. Fanny worked hard in the store, and
bought little. February came, and with the spring her
months of private thinking bore fruit. There came to Fanny
Brandeis a great resolve. She would put herself in a high
place. Every talent she possessed, every advantage, every
scrap of knowledge, every bit of experience, would be used
toward that end. She would make something of herself. It
was a worldly, selfish resolve, born of a bitter sorrow, and
ambition, and resentment. She made up her mind that she
would admit no handicaps. Race, religion, training, natural
impulses--she would discard them all if they stood in her
way.
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