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"We can't go now," cried Patricia, throwing her voice above the sound of the wind, but Bruce and Elinor at the other end of the barn were apparently absorbed in the spectacle, and did not hear her. Judith cuddled close and Patricia felt her hands go cold, but she could only clasp them harder to reassure her—no words could reach her ear. "He's an awfully good sort, if he is queer and stubby," she said, pausing to hide her parcel beneath her stand until the propitious moment. "What in the world—" she began in alarm, but Elinor silenced her questioning with a weak wave of one tired hand..
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Patricia retreated to the tree, and Doris stood with one hand clutching the cloak and the light strong on her face. She looked more beautiful than ever to Patricia's friendly eyes, and there was a calm strength in her manner that awed while it comforted her. All consciousness of herself was gone, and, Patricia felt, gone forever, and in its place a quiet courage that spoke of conquered pride and vanity and selfishness. Doris Leighton had found herself. "I have, and to Mrs. Dallas, who declines to sanction our engagement. She wants Isabella to marry David, and said--" "Poor thing, she's done it at last!" cried Patricia compassionately. "Then what happened?" "Very good. Then you can take out a warrant for his arrest as a murderer, after hearing my evidence.".
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