"I will write to Mr. Trench," said Mrs. Clinton. "But I am sorry that you have decided to ask him here."
The Squire went away vaguely dissatisfied with himself, but took comfort in the thought that women didn't understand these things.
CHAPTER II
JOAN AND NANCY
"My sweet old Joan, tell me all about it."
Joan buried her fair head in Virginia's skirts and burst into tears. She was sitting on the rug in front of the fire by Virginia's side, in the gloaming.
Virginia put her slim hand on to her shoulder, and caressed her lightly. "It's too bad," she said gently, with her soft, hardly distinguishable American intonation.
"I'm such a fool," said Joan. "I don't know what I want. I don't want anything."
She dried her eyes, but still kept her head on Virginia's knee, and put up her hand to give Virginia's a little squeeze. It was comforting to be with her, looking into the fire.