"bad case," and she knew that the one qualification they demanded in
matters of the heart was that the young man should have the means
and inclination to "show a girl a good time." She could not talk to
them--there did not seem to be any point of contact. And when the
subject of love and marriage was discussed around the family circle,
her mother's dictum was always brief and concise:

"You'll get who's for ye--and you'll have your number. There's lots of
trouble for them that don't marry, and there's lots more for them that
do. But there's no use in advisin' or warnin'; it's like the pigs and
the hot swill--one will stick in his nose and run away squalin'; the
next one will do the same, and the next and the next. They never take
warnin's; it's the way of the world!"

But nothing dimmed the glory of Pearl's rainbow dream or stilled the
happy songs her heart sang day and night. She had often pictured the
day the Doctor would come and tell her that the three years were past.
He would drive out with his team, for the snow would be too deep for
his car, and she would first hear the sleigh-bells, even before old
Nap would begin to bark, and he would come in with his cheeks all red
and glowing, with snow on his beaver coat; and he would tell her it
was too fine to stay in, and wouldn't she come for a ride?

So sure was she that he would come that she had laid out on her bed,
in the little room under the rafters, her heavy coat, overshoes and
scarf, and had spent some time deciding whether her red tam or the
brown velvet hat was the most becoming, and finally favored the tam,
because she had once heard the Doctor say that red was the color for
winter, and besides, the brown hat had a sharp rim that might give a
person a nasty poke in the eye ... in case....