Joe had accomplished her object, but she was very far from happy. The consciousness of having done right did not outweigh the pain she felt for Ronald, who was, after all, her very dear friend. They had grown up together from earliest childhood, and so it had been settled; for Ronald was left an orphan when almost a baby, and had been brought up with his cousin as a matter of expediency. Therefore, as Joe said, it had always seemed so very natural. They had plighted vows when still in pinafores with a ring of grass, and later they had spoken more serious things, which it hurt Joe to remember, and now they were suffering the consequence of it all, and the putting off childish illusions was bitter.
It was not long before Sybil Brandon came in answer to Joe’s invitation. She knew what trouble her friend was likely to be in, and was ready to do anything in the world to make matters easier for her. Besides, though Sybil was so white and fair, and seemingly cold, she had a warm heart, and had conceived a very real affection for the impulsive English girl. Miss Schenectady had retired to put on another green ribbon, leaving the life of Mr. Ticknor open on the table, and the two girls met in the drawing-room. Joe was still pale, and the tears seemed ready to start from her eyes.
“Dear Sybil–it is so good of you to come,” said she.
Sybil kissed her affectionately and put her arm round her waist. They stood thus for a moment before the fire.
“You have seen him?” Sybil asked presently. Joe had let her head rest wearily against her friend’s shoulder, and nodded silently in answer. Sybil bent down and kissed her soft hair, and whispered gently in her ear,–“Was it very hard, dear?”
“Oh, yes–indeed it was!” cried Joe, hiding her face on Sybil’s breast. Then, as though ashamed of seeming weak, she stood up boldly, turning slightly away as she spoke. “It was dreadfully hard,” she continued; “but it is all over, and it is very much better–very, very much, you know.”
“I am so glad,” said Sybil, looking thoughtfully at the fire. “And now we will go out into the country and forget all about it–all about the disagreeable part of it.”
“Perhaps,” said Joe, who had recovered her equanimity, “Ronald may come too. You see he is so used to me that after a while it will not seem to make so very much difference after all.”
“Of course, if he would,” said Sybil, “it would be very nice. He will have to get used to the idea, and if he does not begin at once, perhaps he never may.”
“He will be just the same as ever when he gets over his wrath,” answered Joe confidently.