Joan had tired of her game, had used all the material at hand, and was burning to be on the adventurous trail.

The old restlessness and defiance were singing in the girl’s blood; mockery rang in her voice and that wonderful laugh of hers.  She was about to smash into the safe joyousness of things as they were!  She threatened Nancy’s toys.  And Mary, alone, took heed.  Joan herself was unconscious.  She always was of her changing mood; she simply realized that she was lost; somehow, astray.

And Nancy, looking mutely in Mary’s eyes, seemed to say: 

“It will all be so lonely; so terrible with Joan gone!”

That was it.  The old fear of, or for, Joan had materialized—­it was Life with Joan left out!

“And why should one have so much and the other so little?” asked Mary of that deep knowledge in her busy brain.  “Why shouldn’t they share alike—­and twins at that!”

Then Mary stopped short in her thinking.  Her own words took her back, back to a dark night—­she was peering, aided by a dim light from within, at a baby lying in the arms of——­

Mary drew her breath sharp; her thin, flat bosom heaved and her fingers clutched her gown.

David Martin had so far classified his perplexity concerning Doris as to name it “Southern fever.”

“Hookworm?” Joan broke in gleefully.

Martin frowned but did not reply.

“Doris,” he turned to the couch, “I must go out West.”  She understood.  Martin never spoke openly about his family affairs.  Until he was surer of that nephew of his he kept him in the background.

“Yes, David.”  Doris smiled up at him.

“I want you to promise me that you will take more exercise!” Martin said.

“Why, certainly, David, but I thought you wanted me to—­to rest.”

“I do—­but you are rested.  I do not want you to enjoy resting.  It’s dangerous.”

“Oh! bully for you, Uncle David,” Joan broke in, delightedly, “Aunt Dorrie is just plain flopping and Nan and Mary are abetting her.”

For some reason Martin turned to Joan, not Nancy who was standing patiently by.

“Joan, get your aunt on horseback—­lead up to it, of course—­and go slow.”

“But—­Uncle David——­” Nancy drew near.  Her kingdom was threatened.

“My dear,” Martin always melted to Nancy, “after Joan gets her on horseback, you ride with her.”

And so Doris got off her couch, rather dazedly, as one thinking his legs have been shot off finds them still attached to him.

She had been actually letting go!  She, of all people, and just when there was so much to do—­so long as she had strength to do it!

It was December when Martin started for the West and Joan’s restlessness gained power.

Christmas rather eased the situation, for with it Father Noble appeared.

He startled Doris as Uncle Jed had, by his persistence.