To all sides those paths were opening in those days--it was that that made them such eventful days.
Down this path strayed the fancy how much people were made by the things which surrounded them--the things expected of them.

That path led to the vista that amazing responsibility might lie with the things surrounding--the things expected.

It even made her wonder in what measure she would have been Katie Jones, differently surrounded, differently called upon.

Her little trip down that path jostled both her approval of herself and her disapproval of others.
It was only once or twice that the real girl had stirred in the dream.
For the most part she had remained in the shadow of Katie's fancyings.
She was as an actor on the stage, inarticulate save as regards her part.
Katie had grown so absorbed in that part that there were times of forgetting there was a real girl behind it.

Often she believed in her friend Ann Forrest, the dear girl she had known in Florence, the poor child who had gone through so many hard things and was so different from the Zelda Frasers of the world.