“Mrs. Selden wants to know if you aren’t coming to lunch, Miss Joanne,” came the answer.
“Tell her I don’t want any. I have a splitting headache.”
The maid went away. Joanne sat on the side of the bed, her feet dangling over, her eyes red, her hair disordered, altogether a forlorn little figure. They didn’t love her. They didn’t understand her. There was nobody to sympathize with her. To whom could she go for comfort? She thought of Winnie, but decided that Winnie was too candid and outspoken to deal with the situation. She wanted sympathy, not advice. There was Miss Dodge, or Claudia, but a little feeling of embarrassment came over her as she considered any of these. She was not sure that she could present her case so as to win entire commiseration. “I’ll go to Cousin Sue,” she said after a few minutes’ thought. “She will understand, for she knows Gradda so well and she is fond of me. They’ll be at lunch and they won’t miss me. I don’t care if they do; let them.”
She bathed her face, straightened her dress, brushed her hair and then stole softly down the back stairs and out a side door. The fresh air felt grateful; the little park through which she walked was green, and lively with laughing children. By the time she reached Mrs. Pattison’s apartment the world did not appear such a dreary place.
“Come right out and have lunch with me,” said Mrs. Pattison when Joanne appeared. “I’m all alone, for Ned has gone up to the country, as perhaps you know, and I’m delighted to have company. They’re having a stag party up at the lodge, you know, and so, of course I am out of it, though just as well pleased. Did you have a good time? Come in and tell me all about it.”
Joanne entered the pleasant dining-room and took a place at the table. “We had a perfectly gorgeous time,” she said, “and the girls are so enthusiastic about the place, as well they may be.”
Mrs. Pattison looked at her rather critically. “Now I come to see you at close range it appears to me that you look rather done up by your trip.”
Joanne colored up and bit her lip. “It wasn’t the trip that did me up, but what has occurred since.”
“My dear! I hope there is nothing serious with aunt or uncle. Didn’t you find them well?”
“Oh, yes, it’s all to do with me.”