The affection and sympathy in Gloria’s voice filled the space of several moments as they walked. The red roof of Gloria’s low house could be seen through the trees in the settling twilight, and the late summer flowers were doing their fragrant best to sweeten the air, while frogs croaked, birds whimpered and every living hidden thing poured out its soul in vesper greeting.
“Your Aunt Lottie died last month, didn’t she?” finally asked Millie.
“Yes, and Hazel’s mother, Aunt Harriet, is settling her affairs. You see, she lived with them.”
“Is Hazel to go to school with you?”
“I’m afraid not. They built a new house and Aunt Lottie gave Hazel’s share to them for that. But dad would never touch mine. You know how he works with this house. He just painted it all himself and, you know, Millie,” Gloria’s voice was affectionate, “you know, dad never did heavy work. He has always hoped to follow his calling, but I have held him here. Now, Millie, I am telling more than I planned, but I know I can depend upon you to keep it secret.”
“Of course you can, Gloria. But I just hope you won’t go.”
“Don’t you want me to grow up stylish, like Kathy?” teased Gloria.
“I don’t want you to go away, and I don’t want you to grow up like anyone but Gloria Doane,” said Mildred fondly. “Now, I’ll have to run. I promised Joe to help weed his garden and I’ve been out all afternoon. So-long, Glo! See you tomorrow.”
“So-long, Millie,” waved Gloria, for her chum was running off with her feet in one direction and her eyes in the other. Now she was looking back at Gloria Doane as she stood for a few moments under the big cedar tree.
Did Gloria want to leave all this? How peaceful and sweet it seemed now! But no idle dreamer was Gloria. With the first temptation to feel sorry for herself she called up the picture of her dad, Edward Doane, working at a bookkeeper’s desk and dreaming of the great adventure. The young man made serious through sudden hardship—the loss of a lovely wife and the care of a darling daughter. This last would not have meant hardship, if only things had been different in Barbend. But here he had come in quest of the hoped-for health of an ailing wife. Here he had set up his humble home, and here he had still remained for Gloria’s sake.