She sat on the edge of the bed overwhelmed, the roses cradled in her arms. “The wrappered life-discipline! One comes to that at last. ‘It is all too probable that she would wish to change into lay clothing to escape recognition. ’ She stopped, for Jack was feebly laughing. The Becks were the best foster family that she had ever had. The girl was flushed with excitement, bright-eyed, and braced for a struggle; her aunt had never seen her looking so fine or so pretty. \"Want your pencil back?\" She asked him warily, squinting. She had thought it a mirror, because it was her.
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