It was all delightfully restful and beautiful and not a care in the world!
Mary and Nancy saw to every detail. Joan was frankly interested in every phase of the experience. "It might be," mused Doris from her pillows, "that having left everything to that Power that does control, I am to have my heart's deep desire—keep both Joan and Nancy!"
CHAPTER IX
"I count life just a stuff to try the Soul's strength on. Learn, nor count the pang; dare, never grudge the throe."
No one but Mary, apparently, saw what was to happen. It was the old nursery problem re-acted.
Joan had tired of her game, had used all the material at hand, and was burning to be on the adventurous trail.
The old restlessness and defiance were singing in the girl's blood; mockery rang in her voice and that wonderful laugh of hers. She was about to smash into the safe joyousness of things as they were! She threatened Nancy's toys. And Mary, alone, took heed. Joan herself was unconscious. She always was of her changing mood; she simply realized that she was lost; somehow, astray.
And Nancy, looking mutely in Mary's eyes, seemed to say: