But Zora was striding up and down the halls, the blood surging in her ears. After they were gone she came back and closed the doors.
She dropped on her knees and buried her face in the filmy folds of the Silver Fleece.
“I knew it! I knew it!” she whispered in mingled tears and joy. “It called and I did not understand.”
It was her talisman newfound; her love come back, her stolen dream come true.
Now she could face the world; God had turned it straight again. She would go into the world and find‚ÅÝ‚Äînot Love, but the thing greater than Love.
Outside the door came voices‚ÅÝ‚Äîthe dressmaker‚Äôs tones, Helen‚Äôs soft drawl, and Mrs. ¬ÝVanderpool‚Äôs finished accents. Her face went suddenly gray. The Silver Fleece was not hers! It belonged‚ÅÝ‚ÄîShe rose hastily.
The door opened and they came in. The cutting must begin at once, they all agreed.
“Is it ready, Zora?” inquired Helen.
“No,” Zora quietly answered, “not quite, but tomorrow morning, early.” As soon as she was alone again, she sat down and considered. By and by, while the family was at lunch, she folded the Silver Fleece carefully and locked it in her new trunk. She would hide it in the swamp. During the afternoon she sent to town for oilcloth, and bade the black carpenter at Miss Smith’s make a cedar box, tight and tarred. In the