For
she must rush off to the annual Alumni banquet. She was going with
Raymond Bonner who, now, was hovering about her more zealously than
ever. She would have preferred to share this triumphant hour with--
with--well, with someone older and more experienced and better able
to understand. But she liked Raymond; once, long ago--a whole year
ago--she'd had absurd dreams about him. Yet he was a nice boy; the
nicest and most sought-after boy in the class. She was not unhappy
at going off with him.
Father and mother walked home alone, communing together in that
pride-tinged-with-sadness that must, at times, come to all parents.
Mother said:
"And to think I was so worried! That hat-making, and then that
special spell of idle mooning over something-or-nothing, nearly
drove me frantic."
Father smiled through the darkness.
"I suppose, after all," mother mused on, surreptitiously wiping
those prideful eyes, "that there is something in Inspiration, and
the dear child just had to wait till she got it, and that she
doesn't know any more than we do where it came from.
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