"It was a pity you tried. Now, Mittie, I am going to ask you a question,
and I want a clear answer. Will you tell me frankly--did Joan _wish_ to
stay at home to-day, and to send you in her stead?"
Mittie was so subdued that she had no spirit for a fight. "No," came in
a whisper. "I--she--she wanted awfully to come. And I--wouldn't stay at
home. And Grannie didn't like to spare us both."
"Ah, I see!" Mrs. Ferris laid a kind hand on Mittie. "I am glad you have
told me; and you are sorry now, of course. That will make all the
difference. Now I am going to send Fred to tell your sister what has
happened, and to say that you will be here till to-morrow."
"Couldn't he bring Joan? I do want her so!"
"I'm not sure that that will be possible."
But to Fred, when retailing what had passed, she added: "You had better
motor over. And if you can persuade Joan to come, so much the better--to
sleep, if possible; if not, we can send her home later."
Fred was off like a shot. The motor run was a very short affair compared
with going by boat. On arrival, he found the front door of Mrs. Wills's
house open; and he caught a glimpse of a brown head within the
bow-window of the breakfast-room.
If he could only find Joan alone! He ventured to walk in without
ringing.
Alone, indeed, Joan was, trying to darn a pair of stockings, and finding
the task difficult. It had been such a long, long day--longer even for
her than for Mittie.
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