bewildered.

"Oh, never mind father," said Joan quickly; "this is a matter just between
you and me. I'm here to help you, and you must let me do something. Now,
what's the trouble to-day?"

"I don't know, dear. There's no trouble exactly. Things are so difficult
just now. The fact is that I promised to go to tea with Miss Burnett this
afternoon and now your father wants me to go with him to the Deanery. So
provoking! Miss Burnett caught me in the street, where it's always so
difficult to think of excuses."

"Let me go to Miss Burnett's instead," said Joan. "It's quite time I took
on some of the calling for you. I've never seen Mr. Morris, and I hear
he's very nice."

"Very well, dear," said Mrs. Brandon, suddenly beginning, as her way was
when there was any real opposition, to capitulate on all sides at once.
"Suppose you do go, dear. I'm sure it's very kind of you. And you might
take those books back to the Circulating Library as well. It's Market-Day.
Are you sure you won't mind the horses and cows and dogs?"

Joan laughed. "I believe you think I'm still five years old, mother.
That's splendid. I'll start off after lunch."

Joan went up to her room, elated. Truly, this was a great step forward. It
occurred to her on further reflection that something very serious indeed
must be going on behind the scenes to cause her mother to give in so
quickly. She sat on her old faded rocking-chair, her hands crossed behind
her head, thinking it all out. Did she once begin calling on her own