nearer!

"You sang beautifully, Joan," for Joan had sung at Nancy's request a
wedding hymn. "Your voice has gained a richness, dear. Next winter----"

"Yes--Aunt Dorrie!" Joan broke in nervously, then suddenly she dropped
on her knees by Doris's chair and said softly:

"Aunt Dorrie, I'm going to ask some very--queer questions. You see,
while I was away--I missed a lot--and I want to catch up.

"If--if--Nan hadn't loved Ken, wouldn't you and Uncle David have wanted
her to care for Clive Cameron?"

Joan felt that Nancy had garnered all that she had sown during her
learning time, and often the thought made her lonely, detached her from
them. She believed that Cameron's absence from the wedding covered a
hurt that her loved ones hid from her.

"Yes, Joan," Doris replied very simply, "but--we feel now that it is
best as it is."

"Why, Aunt Dorrie?"

"I cannot explain. When you meet Clive Cameron"--Joan winced--"you will
understand."

"Did--did Clive Cameron--care?"

Doris laughed.

"No. It was quite comic, Joan, the whole proceeding. Mrs. Tweksbury,
Uncle David, and I played matchmakers with a vengeance--but we bungled
frightfully, and then Clive Cameron wedged his big body in between Nancy
and several young men who might have made trouble, and--and--" Doris
thought for an illuminating word. Then--"whistled Ken on!"

"Why, that's awfully funny, Aunt Dorrie--I rather imagined that Ken
plunged!"

"No, he always felt attracted by Nancy--she was wonderfully attractive
to men, Joan, but I honestly believe it was Clive who made Ken realize.
Ken is the slow, sure sort; while Clive is rather devastating, you know.
He doesn't waste time or energy--when he sees his way he goes! He is
very like what his uncle was when I first knew him--only surer of
himself." Doris's lips trembled.

"More bumptious, maybe!" Joan laughed. She was again in high spirits,
though why she could hardly have told.

"No, he isn't, Joan!" Doris took up cudgels for the absent Cameron. "You
mustn't get that idea. He's the most humble of fellows--but he has a
vision. David says he plods along after his dreams and ideals, but when
he grips them--well, he grips! I see now how right he was about Nancy
and Ken. They are suited to each other."

"Yes--they're the carrying-on sort, Aunt Dorrie"; Joan looked wise and
confident. "They're like their kind--Nan is like you. Away back in the
Dondale days she used to gloat over all that went to your making,