She was not indifferent, either, to the kindness and consideration shown her, but the wildness in her blood reasserted itself and she often felt, as she had felt at St. Michael’s, a desire to fly from restraint; even this kindly restraint. Point of Pines had given her a sense of liberty that was now lacking. The refinements and richness of the Walled House oppressed her, she yearned for Jo, for the hard, unlovely tasks, for the chance talks with Tom Gavot. But, oddly enough, it was the thought of Tom that kept her to her duty. Somehow she dared not run away and hope to keep his approval. Something of her struggle Alice Lindsay saw, and she considered it seriously. To win the girl wholly from her yearnings just then might mean winning her from Mam’selle. While not a child, Donelle was very unformed and might easily, if she were conquered, be lost to Jo whom she regarded simply in the light of an adopted guardian. She was grateful, she loved Jo, but the secret tie that Alice Lindsay believed existed held no part in her thoughts. "But she shall be saved for Mam’selle," Alice Lindsay vowed. "I will not permit any other solution. If the time ever comes when she understands she shall know the splendour of this dear soul." So Alice Lindsay took Jo into her confidence. "You must not, Mam’selle," she said, "even think yourself renouncing her. She is yours and you ought not to forget that, nor deprive her of yourself. Take things for granted; let her see you as I see you!" Jo’s face twitched. "There’s no earthly reason," Alice Lindsay went on, "for blotting you out. Why, the girl will never know another woman as fine as you, Mam’selle. Think of how you have studied and thought yourself into a place that many a woman with untold advantages has not attained!" "Donelle’s father was a scholar," Jo faltered, not knowing how to act in the strained moment. "He taught me, not only books, but how to think." "Yes, and to suffer, Mam’selle," Alice Lindsay controlled her true emotions. Then: "Mam’selle, Donelle must learn to appreciate her inheritance from you. She shall, she shall! Now throw off your usual manner with her; let her see you!" "She always has, Mrs. Lindsay." "Very well, don’t let go of her now!" And so Jo permitted herself the luxury of doing what her heart longed to do, she put off her guarded manner and played for the first time in her life. It was during Donelle’s week-end visits home that she first came forth in her new character of comrade. In an especially fine spell of weather she suggested camping out in the woods. Donelle and Nick were beside themselves with delight, for Mam’selle was a genius at camping. Never had she so truly revealed herself as she did then, and Donelle looked at her in amazement. "Mamsey," she said, "is it because I’m away from you so much that you seem different? You are wonderful and you know about the loveliest wood things and stars. It’s like magic."