Even then misgivings sent him to Ann in a panic of conscience.

“Am I ungenerous?” he demanded.  “Perhaps Joan should have had a year of utter freedom.  You know what I mean, Ann.  To come and go as she pleases and with whom she pleases.  She’s so young.”  He flushed.

“Joan wouldn’t have it different,” said Ann, touched by the boyish wistfulness of his eyes.  “She clings to you.  And she’s as shy and unspoiled as the day you brought her here.  This flurry of admiration to her means nothing at all.  She’s unhappy with strangers.”

Kenny knew it was true and marveled.

“I would like to be generous,” he admitted with an effort.  “But I can’t.  It’s the simple truth, Ann, I can’t.  Even the thought of her liking other men—­bothers me.”

December was fated to hold for him another startling anticlimax.  It came one snowy morning when he had slept even later than usual, dreaming of an iridescent balloon that climbed higher and higher with Joan peeping radiantly over the edge until at the peal of the telephone bell it disappeared entirely.

Joan’s voice instantly dispelled his irritation.

“Mavourneen!” he exclaimed.  “Up already!  And you danced half the night.”

“It’s eleven o’clock,” said Joan.  “Besides, I couldn’t sleep.  I’ve been thinking.  Remember, Kenny, when you read the will and I said that Donald should have the farm?”

“Yes,” said Kenny, somewhat mystified.  “I remember.”

“If he’s going to study and work his way through college, I don’t think he’d want it, do you?”

“No, dear, I doubt if he would.  What’s in your mind, girleen?”

“Oh, I’m so glad you think so too!  Kenny—­”

“Yes?”

“Do you know Jan’s cousin, the pretty girl who’s a model?  I know that doesn’t sound at all as if it had anything to do with the farm but it has.  Jan’s cousin said—­I hardly know how to tell you, Kenny.  I don’t think I like telephones.  If I could see your face—­”

“I’m wearing my guardian’s face!”

“Oh!”

“And evidently it isn’t popular.”

“I like you—­different.  Jan’s cousin said that she could get me a great deal of work if I wanted it—­posing for head and shoulders—­”

“Joan!”

“Oh, dear!” wailed Joan.  “That was a guardian’s voice.  Please wait, Kenny.”

“I’m waiting.”

“I’m going to keep the farm and give Don the rest of the four thousand dollars. . . .  Did you say anything, Kenny?”

“No. . . .  No, I was just clearing my throat.”

“I’ve only spent a little of it yet.  From now on I want to earn my living like Peggy and Ann and Margot and all the others.  I’ll still have plenty of time to study and practice.  I wonder I didn’t think of it before.  It was selfish when I had the farm and Don not even mentioned in the will.  I suppose I didn’t think of it because here things seem to happen so—­so fast.  I’m always in a whirl.”