"So that's the way it happened," mused David. Delicacy forbade him to ask further questions. He understood, as did the others, that Grace's explanation had been purposely sketchy. "Personally, I'm not sorry it's now generally known. It may be the means of bringing Tom into the land of the living again. I don't mean that I think he's dead. I can't and won't think that."
"Nor I," Grace cried out sharply. "I've never let myself believe that for an instant. We ought to give Elfreda special vote of grateful thanks for suggesting Jean. That was a master stroke."
Grace's suggestion brought out a volley of acclamation in Elfreda's direction.
"Oh, forget it," she muttered, unconsciously relapsing into her old-time use of slang. "Old Jean just happened to pop into my head. That's all."
"Just the same, it takes an outsider to show the Oakdalites a few things," warmly accorded Hippy. "I am proud to claim you as a colleague, Elfreda. Some day we may yet grapple together with the intricacies of the law. 'Wingate and Briggs, Lawyer and Lawyeress. Daring Deeds Perpetrated While You Wait,' would look nice on a sign."
"I can see that you are making fun of a poor defenseless lawyeress," retorted Elfreda good-humoredly. "Don't you think so, Mrs. Nesbit? You've been listening to all of us without saying a word. Now we'd like to hear your views on whether or not Wingate and Briggs, etc., would set the world on fire as a law firm."
"I have little doubt of the glorious future of such a combination," agreed Mrs. Nesbit, smiling. There was an absent look in her eyes, however. Her thoughts had been traveling persistently into the past as she sat listening to the interesting discussion over the missing Tom. Was it possible that Miriam, her little girl of yesterday, had actually stepped out on the highway of married life? And Grace Harlowe, the care-free torn-boy who had run races and flown kites with David, was now a tragic-eyed young woman from whose hand fate had roughly snatched the cup of happiness. There were Nora and Hippy, too, a veritable Darby and Joan, despite their love for playful squabbling. Could it be that these alert, self-reliant young men and women were once the children who had romped and frisked about on her lawn, or played house under the tall hollyhocks in the garden?
"You are tired out, Mrs. Nesbit," suggested Grace with concern. She had noted the brooding light in the older woman's gentle face and quickly attributed the cause. "I think it is time to sound taps. We can continue our session in the morning, can't we, Fairy Godmother?"
"Yes. I am not nearly as young as I wish I were. This trouble about Tom has made me realize it," returned Mrs. Gray somberly. "But Elfreda has given us a valuable piece of advice. I am inclined to hope with Grace that we have reached the beginning of the end of our weary waiting."
"I've a favor to ask of you," stated Elfreda mysteriously, when, a little later, she and Grace entered the sleeping room which they were to occupy together.