But back in Grandam’s big room she decided to wait quietly up there for Grandam’s return from her outing. She was drawn to the daybed, with its wide view across woodlands to the Palisades. She sat down on the edge of the bed and absently gathered a scarf which was lying there up into her beauty-loving fingers. After a minute, she rose to her knees on the bed and wrapped the scarf about her. It was a silver wing, a silver cloud which draped her. One could dance in a scarf like this, even in the house. She wished that Persis and Nicky were here. She would dance for them, if they were, over the dark floor; she would feel that she was dancing, really, out in the golden snowy air, because of the magic of this scarf of Grandam’s. She began to hum,—low humming, with no tune in it. And she did not hear the door from the hall open and the quick step that followed. But she heard Mrs. Weyman’s voice when it came. Yet she did not start. One does not start out of such quiet happiness as had come to Ariel up here in Grandam’s environment. She looked up quietly into Mrs. Weyman’s astounded face.
“But, my dear! Has Mrs. Weyman returned?”
“No. Grandam is motoring with Glenn.” But such literalness was childish and Ariel knew it even as she spoke.
She hurried on, suddenly embarrassed. “I just came up to look for something. But it isn’t here. Then—the view—”
“I think she would. More than most people.”
Ariel unwound herself from the lovely scarf. And in spite of its gossamer delicacy and the tough texture of her own green jersey frock, she felt that in coming out of the scarf she was coming out of a sure protection into a kind of nakedness. She folded the scarf very carefully, very softly, and laid it on a pillow. As she did this she murmured, “If it had been Grandam who came in just now instead of you—”
Mrs. Weyman laughed, not unkindly. “My dear girl! If she only _had_ come in! Found you kneeling on her precious bed, dressing up in her own precious scarfs! You’d have felt like—about two cents. It’s a gift she has. You’re lucky it was I!”
Then she grew serious. “Ariel, I don’t want to offend you or hurt your feelings. I know things must be very strange and difficult for you these days. But there are a few very simple things I can help you with, I think. ‘Grandam,’ for instance. Just the family call my mother-in-law that. It’s a pet name made up by the children when they were little, you see. You had better call her ‘Mrs. Weyman.’ And then, to simplify things, you may call me ‘Mrs. John.’ People do, quite often, when there’s need to distinguish. And let’s both run along now before she appears. She’d be no more charmed with finding me here than you, even if I did come up with _this_ scarf which Miss Peters neglected to bring. And they’ll be back any minute—”