She had hers--Gilbert and Hosack and the others, if they could be called friends.

But why a girl with a white face and red lips and hair that came out of a bottle?
That didn't sound much like Martin.
All these thoughts ran through Joan's mind as she walked about the drawing-room with its open windows, in the first hour of the morning, sending out an S.O.S.to Martin.

She ought to be in bed and asleep--not thinking and going over everything as if she were a woman.
She wasn't a woman yet, and could only be a kid once.

It was too bad of Alice to try and force her to take things seriously so soon.
Seriousness was for older people, and even then something to avoid if possible.

And as for Gilbert--well, she didn't for one instant deny the fact that it was rather exciting and exhilarating for him to be in love with her, although she was awfully sorry for Alice.