She refused to give in about not sleeping alone. "Nonsense," she said brusquely, when Joan implored, "I shall be all right; don't be silly, darling."
But she did not look as though she would be all right, and Joan searched her brain desperately for some new scheme, but found none. What was she to do? And in less than two hours now she would be gone. Throwing her arms round her mother's neck she dropped her head on her shoulder.
"I can't leave you like this," she said desperately.
Mrs. Ogden's tears began to fall. "But you must leave me, Joan; I want you to go."
They clung together, forlorn and miserable.
"You will write, Mother, very often?"
"Very often, my Joan, and you must too."
"Every day," Joan promised. "Every day."
She went up to her room and began to pack her bag, but, contrary to custom, Mrs. Ogden did not follow her. At a quarter to ten she came downstairs; her mother was nowhere to be seen.
"Mother!" she called anxiously, "where are you?"