Chapter 65
yet to be told.
Nat was snatching every minute he could get with Daisy before the
long parting; and Mrs Meg relented somewhat, feeling sure that
absence would quite cure this unfortunate fancy. Daisy said little;
but her gentle face was sad when she was alone, and a few quiet tears
dropped on the handkerchiefs she marked so daintily with her own
hair. She was sure Nat would not forget her; and life looked rather
forlorn without the dear fellow who had been her friend since the
days of patty-pans and confidences in the willow-tree. She was an
old-fashioned daughter, dutiful and docile, with such love and
reverence for her mother that her will was law; and if love was
forbidden, friendship must suffice. So she kept her little sorrow to
herself, smiled cheerfully at Nat, and made his last days of
home-life very happy with every comfort and pleasure she could give,
from sensible advice and sweet words to a well-filled work-bag for
his bachelor establishment and a box of goodies for the voyage.
Tom and Nan took all the time they could spare from their studies to
enjoy high jinks at Plumfield with their old friends; for Emil's next
voyage was to be a long one, Nat's absence was uncertain, and no one
ever knew when Dan would turn up again. They all seemed to feel that
life was beginning to grow serious; and even while they enjoyed those
lovely summer days together they were conscious that they were
children no longer, and often in the pauses of their fun talked
soberly of their plans and hopes, as if anxious to know and help one
another before they drifted farther apart on their different ways.
A few weeks were all they had; then the Brenda was ready, Nat was to
sail from New York, and Dan went along to see him off; for his own
plans fermented in his head, and he was eager to be up and doing. A
farewell dance was given on Parnassus in honour of the travellers,
and all turned out in their best array and gayest spirits. George and
Dolly came with the latest Harvard airs and graces, radiant to
behold, in dress-suits and 'crushed hats', as Josie called the