"Oh, Jessica!" A painful silence fell upon the row of girls, whose voices had only a moment since rung out so gayly.
Nora sat staring straight ahead of her with quivering lips.

Of the three girls she would miss Jessica the most sorely.

Grace, too, felt that dreadful sense of loss, of which she had complained earlier in the afternoon, stealing down upon her.

Anne's face wore a look of loving concern, but an expression of resignation to destiny, which was likely to lead one to the ends of the earth, lurked in her somber eyes.

She had learned young to bow with the best possible grace to the inevitable.
Suddenly a half-stifled sob broke the oppressive quiet.
"Nora, you mustn't," protested Jessica weakly, but Nora's curly head was already resting on Grace's comforting shoulder, and an instant afterward Jessica sought the consolation of the other shoulder.
"Girls, girls," soothed Grace, an arm around each, "you mustn't cry." Nevertheless she experienced a wild desire to lift up her voice and lament with them.