It was during Donelle's week-end visits home that she first came forth in her new character of comrade. In an especially fine spell of weather she suggested camping out in the woods. Donelle and Nick were beside themselves with delight, for Mam'selle was a genius at camping. Never had she so truly revealed herself as she did then, and Donelle looked at her in amazement.
"Mamsey," she said, "is it because I'm away from you so much that you seem different? You are wonderful and you know about the loveliest wood things and stars. It's like magic."
It was like magic, and Jo rightly concluded that something in Donelle's early life responded to these nights in the woods. She recalled the girl's delirium, her references to weary wanderings.
"It seems," Donelle once said, hugging her knees beside the glowing fire, "it seems as if I'd been here before."
"One often feels that way," Jo replied as she prepared a fragrant meal, "and I'm not saying but what we do pass along the same way more than once. It may take more than one little life to learn all there is to know."
And then Donelle talked of a book she had been reading and they grew very chummy. Once Jo suggested—it was when Donelle told her how she lived through the weeks, only because the week-ends were in view—that Nick should stay at the Walled House.
"Nick, would you leave Mamsey?" Donelle held the dog's face in her hands. It was an awful moment for Nick. He actually slunk.
"I'd hate you if you would!" Donelle continued. "Now, sir, who is your choice?"
Nick saved the day, he ambled over to Jo and licked her hand.
"There!" exultingly cried Donelle; "that shows his blood."