Anne tried to smile. "It's—like the Social Revolution. It's been moaning away for centuries and it's just where it started."
A look of understanding crossed Belle's eyes and was gone before Anne looked up.
"Then the other's the thing you want. It's away up in the high Sierras. There's only an old couple as caretakers. You won't have to see much of them, but the old man—I saw him once—is as still as a tree. I should go crazy in two days but you'll love it."
High up in the mountains, higher and stiller even than the lake. And the old man like a tree. Anne's eyes filled with tears.
"But there's the cottage—all the things—I can't——"
"I'll fix that. I'll write to Roger; he'll have to know you're not there anyhow, and let him struggle with storage if he wants to."
"But—I can't stay away very long. I'm not going to take money from Roger—I'm going to work, I——"
Belle put both hands very gently on Anne's shoulder and forced her back on the pillows from which she had risen in nervous need to manage the details of her going.
"Sisterkin, you've passed out of your own authority now; you're in mine. You're going, and you're going to-morrow and you'll stay until you're well."
"I'm not sick."