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Then, when her grandfather picked it up gingerly, as if he feared contamination, she added quickly, "Oh, give it to me, please, Grandfather. Don't take it away." "I am going to burn it," said Cyrus Morgan sternly. "Oh, don't, Grandfather," cried Joscelyn, with a sob in her voice. "Don't burn it, please. I ... I ... won't practise out of it any more. I'm sorry I've displeased you.
No, I'm not, Jordan, I know it. Something tells me so very plainly. But I would be willing to go glad to go, for I'm very tired, Jordan if I could only have heard little Joscelyn sing once more." "Why are you so set on hearing her?" asked Jordan. "She ain't no kin to you, is she?" "No, but dearer to me dearer to me than many of my own.
"O, little Joscelyn!" breathed Aunty Nan in rapture, when the song ended. Joscelyn knelt by her again and they had a long talk of old days. One by one they recalled the memories of that vanished summer. The past gave up its tears and its laughter. Heart and fancy alike went roaming through the ways of the long ago. Aunty Nan was perfectly happy.
He bought a ticket apologetically and sneaked in to his seat. It was a matinee performance, and Joscelyn Morgan was starring in her famous new play. Cyrus waited for the curtain to rise, feeling as if every one of his Spring Valley neighbours must know where he was and revile him for it. If Deborah were ever to find out ... but Deborah must never find out!
It might have passed with a child; to a woman, thrilling with life and conscious power to her very fingertips, it was galling beyond measure. Joscelyn rebelled, but she did nothing secretly ... that was not her nature. She wrote to her Aunt Annice, and when she received her reply she went straight and fearlessly to her grandparents with it. "Grandfather, this letter is from my aunt.
And oh, to hear little Joscelyn sing just once Joscelyn, whose voice was delighting thousands out in the big world, just as in the years gone by it had delighted Aunty Nan and the dwellers at the Gull Point Farm for a whole golden summer with carols at dawn and dusk about the old place! "Oh, I know I'm not very strong, Maria." said Aunty Nan pleadingly, "but I am strong enough for that.
"But oh, such a summer!" said Aunty Nan softly. "We all loved little Joscelyn. She just seemed like one of our own. She was one of God's children, carrying love with them everywhere. In some ways that little Anne Shirley the Cuthberts have got up there at Green Gables reminds me of her, though in other ways they're not a bit alike. Joscelyn was a beauty."
And then Joscelyn told her all the story of her struggles and triumphs since they had parted. When the moonlight began to creep in through the low window, Aunty Nan put out her hand and touched Joscelyn's bowed head. "Little Joscelyn," she whispered, "if it ain't asking too much, I want you to sing just one other piece.
Aunty Nan was lying with her eyes fixed on the pale pink climbing roses that nodded about the window. When she saw Jordan she smiled. "Them roses put me so much in mind of little Joscelyn," she said softly. "She loved them so. If I could only see her! Oh, Jordan, if I could only see her! Maria says it's terrible childish to be always harping on that string, and mebbe it is.
William effusively. "She's been talking about you for weeks." "Yes, it has made her very happy," said Joscelyn gravely. "And it has made me happy, too. I love Aunty Nan, Mrs. Morrison, and I owe her much. In all my life I have never met a woman so purely, unselfishly good and noble and true." "Fancy now," said Mrs.
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