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Updated: May 9, 2025
Almost in complete silence they went to The Laurels. Mittie's repeated attempts at conversation died, each in succession, a natural death. When Mary Ferris appeared, surprise was again shown at the sight of Mittie alone. Mary Ferris did not take it so quietly as her brother had done. She was naturally blunt, and she put one or two awkward questions which Mittie found it not easy to evade.
In Mittie's mind lay a scarcely acknowledged fear that, if she were more explicit, Fred might insist on seeing Joan; and, in that event, that she might herself be in the end the one left behind. She was determined to have her day of fun. Ferris had grown suddenly grave. He made Mittie comfortable in her seat, cast loose, and took the oars; but he seemed to have little to say.
"Those paper fringes want to go clean across every one of the shelves, and you all must make enough paper roses to pin 'round the edges of all the curtains. Ever'thing's got to look gay and festive." "Mittie don't look very gay," ventured one of the assistants. "I seen her in the kitchen cryin' a minute ago." "Mittie's a fool!" announced Mrs. Beaver calmly.
But the subjects for which she cared, though they would have delighted Joan, were utter tedium to Mittie's empty little head. Before an hour had passed, Mary's boredom was only less pronounced than Mittie's own. It was so tiresome, so stupid of Joan not to come! Mittie complained bitterly to herself of this. If Joan had come too, all would have gone well.
There was an abrupt pause. Even Mittie's self-complacency could not veil from her his changed face, his blank disappointment. In that moment she very fully realised the truth that Joan, and not herself, was the one really wanted. But she smiled on resolutely, careless of what Fred might think about Joan's motives, and bent on making a good impression.
Mary had tried every imaginable thing she could think of to amuse the young guest, and every possible subject for talk. They seemed to have arrived at the end of everything, and it took all Mittie's energies to keep down, in a measure, her recurring yawns. Mary did her best, but she found Mittie far from interesting.
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