She was conscious, as they plunged down-stream, of all the burning glances. She held her head high. Her eyes flashed. She was going to dance with Johnny, and they could look as much as they liked.
Mr. Forsyth delivered her to her mother and went cantering off. Joan sat down, smoothed her dress and stared at the vast shiny lake of amber in which the silver candelabra were reflected like little islands. She looked at her mother and was suddenly sorry for her. It must be dull, when you were as old as mother, coming to these dances--and especially when you had so few friends. Her mother had never made many friends.
"Wasn't that Mr. Morris who was talking to you just now?"
"Yes, dear."
"I like him. He looks kind."
"Yes, dear."
"And where's father?"
"Over there, talking to Lady St. Leath."
She looked across, and there he was, so big and tall and fine, so splendid in his grand clothes. Her heart swelled with pride.
"Isn't he splendid, mother, dear?"