-and here Joan began to sob in self-pity; in
pity for all girls, like Patricia and her, who were so lightly
considered.

"We do not matter!" she murmured. Then she dashed her tears away. "But
we _must_ matter!"

She sprang up. She flung the letters upon the embers; she gathered Cuff
to her bosom and--laughed!

It was her old, old laugh. The laugh that held in its depth, not scorn
of life, but an appreciation of it.

"It's how we take it all, Cuff, my dear, just how we take it! And,
Cuff"--here Joan held the little animal off at arms' length and looked
into his deep, serious eyes--"I'm going to get the world by the tail
again--_you watch me!_"

CHAPTER XXIV

"_O, friend never strike sail to a fear._"

Because the woman in Joan had not been hurt by her experiences, because
it was only the wildness of youth that had carried her to the verge of
making mistakes and then sent her reeling back, she reacted quickly. She
was no longer the reckless, heedless Joan--the change made Martin frown.
He put full value on her cropped hair and thin body--he had grappled
with the scourge, and he knew!

He presently found himself in friendly sympathy with this new, patient,
tender Joan--they had much to say to each other.

Nancy was not so keen about the change. Joan had come back--Joan was
putting into life all that it lacked. This was enough for Nancy! The
spring days were dreams of bliss and she radiated joy.

"Ken will adore you, Joan!" she confided. "You see, he has a twisted
idea about you just because you weren't with us all, but when he sees
you, darling, he'll be on his knees before you as we all are!"

"I'd love to get my first view of him in that attitude," Joan laughingly
replied, "but on the whole, I'd rather take him standing."

During those waiting days, until Raymond came to marry Nancy, Ridge
House quivered with excited preparation.

"Of course!" Joan had agreed to the quiet wedding idea, "we must have it
as Nancy wishes, but it must be perfect."

So Joan sewed and designed--some of Patricia's gift was hers--and often
her face fell into pensive lines as she worked, for she seemed to see
Patricia as she used to sit, well into the night, planning and evolving
the dainty garments that others were to wear.

"My turn!" Joan comforted herself with the thought; "my turn now, dear
Pat."

And then the day came when Kenneth Raymond was to arrive. Mrs. Tweksbury
could be safely left in New York. She was re