“Just like everything else!” sighed Joan. “Father spoke to mother just as if he had seen her yesterday. I don’t think he has the least idea they have been apart. Mother talked of it, and tried to make him understand, and he smiled and patted her hand, but didn’t take it in—one could see that.”
“Poor Joan!” Leo said pityingly. “It has been a trying day for you.”
“The move is best over, I suppose,” said Joan, with an effort. “But I think I am disappointed. I think I hoped more from the old surroundings. He doesn’t seem the least bit roused, and he takes everything exactly in the same way. Don’t say anything to make me cry, please. I must go back to father in a few minutes, and he doesn’t like to see tears. We told mother she must be sure not to cry, and she was keeping up wonderfully when I came away. I didn’t know mother had so much self-command. But I must not leave her alone with him too long.”
“Isn’t Nessie there?”
“Yes. Oh, Nessie is no use!”
“And Marian has gone?”
“You told me she should,” said Joan. “Did mother mind?”
“Rather; but I managed it without reference to you. It would have been difficult, if Marian had not taken the matter into her own hands. She behaved exceedingly well. I was sorry to have to dismiss her, she seemed so grieved. I never came across a more perplexing individual.”
“I only hope I shall never see her again,” said Joan.
Another step approached, hasty and irregular. Dulcibel came into the room, with a scared look.