“Oh, yes, Jim!” she cried, and then fell silent, ashamed.
“This world would indeed be an empty place for me—if anything should happen to that friendship.”
He took her hand, and she knew in a bitter little rush how much she wanted to have his arms around her—to feel again encompassing her the peace that she had destroyed. Pale as the novice who goes to her vows, she took her hand away and left him.
She sat at the piano, striving to drown the turbulence within her by a glory of sound. With shaking, silver lips, she tried to form the words of the Jewel Song—she should be able really to sing it now—for to-day had come her first trill! “All passes; Art alone endures.” She was so wise not to have allowed the sentiment of the moment to overpower her. It was just such moments that were responsible for the “mute, inglorious Pattis” of the world.
The trill came, neat and exquisite. Then haltingly—
“Je ris—de me voir—
Si belle—”
Her voice limped into silence. . . .
She left the piano. This loneliness was getting on her nerves. She would see Félicie to-morrow. Yes, to-morrow was coming—and she could not wait to have Pa hear that trill!
On hearing Joy’s proposition, Félicie consulted her great-aunt, but neither of them wished to leave their eminently satisfactory lodgings in Brighton.