Another cause of anxiety
was Lucy's restlessness. Every day she must have
some new excitement--a picnic with the young girls
and young men, private theatricals in the town hall,
or excursions to Barnegat Beach, where they were
building a new summer hotel. Now and then she
would pack her bag and slip off to New York or
Philadelphia for days at a time to stay with friends
she had met abroad, leaving Ellen with Jane and
Martha. To the older sister she seemed like some
wild, untamable bird of brilliant plumage used to
long, soaring flights, perching first on one dizzy
height and then another, from which she could watch
the world below.
The thing, however, which distressed Jane most
was Lucy's attitude towards Archie. She made every
allowance for her first meeting at the station, and
knew that necessarily it must be more or less constrained,
but she had not expected the almost cold indifference
with which she had treated the boy ever
since.
As the days went by and Lucy made no effort to
attach Archie to her or to interest herself either in
his happiness or welfare, Jane became more and more
disturbed. She had prayed for this home-coming
and had set her heart on the home-building which
was sure to follow, and now it seemed farther off
than ever.
Pages:
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277