Morning having come, and everybody feeling refreshed after a goad night, George Rutherford suggested an excursion somewhere. Nessie waited passively for other folk’s opinions. Joan’s face glowed an assent. Dulcibel, standing at the front window of the drawing-room, and gazing out with a pensive air, gave utterance to the remark with which the chapter begins.
“Joan has grown a good deal since yesterday,” George observed rather drily.
“But seventeen years. Can you believe it? Seventeen years! And it all comes back so strongly. I can remember Joan crouching in that corner for almost a whole day, refusing to say a word to anybody. And there was a clergyman, Mr. Meredith, standing just here with me, talking about her—such an odd child she was!”
“Mother, we are wasting our time,” said Joan, disposed to frown.
“You two girls may go and get your boots on,” George said. “Mother and I will settle plans meantime.” And as they vanished he came a step nearer. A few people were at the other end of the room, talking, but none stood within easy earshot. “Well, Dulcie, where shall we go?”
Dulcibel looked up rather defiantly.
“The valley, of course, George; but Nessie and I will not cross the bridge.”
“No?” George uttered the word half-questioningly.
“Certainly not,” Dulcibel answered. Then a pause; and Dulcibel lifted her eyes anew to meet his. “What do you mean?” she asked involuntarily.
“I had you with me, Dulcie, the last time I was there; and I shall want you this time.”