Hewitt.
"You'll have her most of the rest of your natural life," she
pleaded. "And I saw her first. I think I ought to have her now."
So Mrs. Hewitt reluctantly gave her up, and she went back to the
Harrington house.
She saw scarcely less of John, because he continued to come
regularly to see them in the mornings on his way home, and generally
got in a little visit in the afternoons, not counting the fact that
he took her on his rounds with him three days out of five. And then,
of course, there were the rehearsals.
"My dear," he remonstrated with her, as they were on their way home
from one of these, "I don't want to seem to scold you, but you
shouldn't let young Gray put his arm around you the way he does."
"Put his arm around me?" demanded Joy, quite honestly surprised.
"Why, what do you mean? Oh--the rehearsals! Why--why, John! You and
Allan have to put your arms around Gail every little while, and so
does everybody else. And I'm supposed to be _Strephon's_ mother.
People have to, in theatricals."
"Clarence seems to think so," said John dryly, and Joy turned her
head to look at him more closely in the moonlight.
"And now Clarence! Little Philip Harrington does, too, and I suppose
you'll be telling me to have him stop next!"
But at the scorn in her voice John only became firmer.
"Gail Maddox is entirely different," he explained. It seemed to Joy
that if he had offered her that explanation once he had a hundred
times.
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