"Patricia's awfully superficial, I think," she confided to him cheerfully, as she watched her readjusting her bright hair beneath the pretty hat rim at the quaint old mirror of the bookcase. "She's so set on pretty things. She just worships anyone who is pretty—no matter whether she understands their character or not. I wish we could make her more serious-minded and careful.",
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.,
They had not missed her, much to her surprise. She felt she had undergone so much, and they were still in the very state she had left them. She blurted out her triumphant account of the new Doris, almost forgetting Geraldine, and to their excited questionings and comments she flashed illuminating replies, making them see the very figure in the muffled cloak with the courageous expression on its lovely face..
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