Tory observed the absence of the rusty leather bag that ordinarily sat in the corner by the odd cabinet.
From the depth of this same bag she had received the gift of the Eagle’s Wing which had been her talisman in Westhaven. Later her Troop of Girl Scouts had chosen the Eagle’s Wing for its crest.
Never did Miss Frean fail to carry this bag when upon a pilgrimage to some one ill or in trouble in the neighborhood who asked her sympathy and help.
The laws and purposes of the outdoors, some of its simple gifts of healing, Miss Frean had studied and applied.
She would realize that the storm would be a heavy one and return home in a little while.
In the meantime, the girl, knowing she would be found a welcome guest, sat by the fire, sometimes dreaming, at others troubled by Miss Frean’s delay.
She had always been able to see pictures in the firelight.
At present she pretended to observe a procession of knights marching through the flames. The last knight perished and Tory aroused herself to action.
Outside it was now dark, so that Miss Frean would be at home at any moment, tired and hungry.
She would be glad to discover she was not to spend the long winter evening alone.