Layers

It was nearly a month and a half since Josephine had written Malcolm and Sarah, and the Ayers' were beginning to worry about their only daughter. More accurately, Sarah was beginning to worry. Her last letter seemed too chipper--almost false. Josephine had never been one of those girls that giggled and flounced in petticoats, but maybe this new school and the wealthy girls there were shaping their tomboy into some kind of debutante. But more than that, Sarah could sense--as mothers always do--Jo was hiding her true feelings from them. Probably so Malcolm wouldn't worry. Jo knew her papa would only concern himself with her if she let on something might be amiss. Sarah thought of this and smiled faintly at the idea of Josephine learning all too quickly how to get along in this world. With a mind to really hear from her daughter, Sarah sat at the dining room table and started a letter.