Perhaps they had need of Sextoness Jane, of
the interweaving of her life into theirs--of the interweaving of all
the village lives going on about them--quite as much as those more
sober lives needed the brightening touch of theirs.
"Hilary! O Hilary!" Pauline called.
"I'm coming," Hilary answered, and went slowly down to where the others
were waiting on the porch.
"Has anything happened?" Pauline asked.
"I've been having a think--and I've come to the conclusion that we're a
selfish, self-absorbed set."
"Mother Shaw!" Pauline went to the study window, "please come out here.
Hilary's calling us names, and that isn't polite."
Mrs. Shaw came. "I hope not very bad names," she said.
Hilary swung slowly back and forth in the hammock. "I didn't mean it
that way--it's only--" She told what Patience had said about Jane's
joining the club, and then, rather reluctantly, a little of what she
had been thinking.
"I think Hilary's right," Shirley declared. "Let's form a deputation
and go right over and ask the poor old soul to join here and now."
"I would never've thought of it," Bell said. "But I don't suppose I've
ever given Jane a thought, anyway."
"Patty's mighty cute--for all she's such a terror at times," Pauline
admitted.
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