"Well, now I'm not quite sure, but if my memory serves me, I think there's
a boy amongst them. I know the eldest girl is named Jean Daphne, because
I've always sent her a silver spoon on her birthday since she was born.
They're all of them over ten, I am sure. Why don't you just write to
Jerrold and make known your willingness? I am sure they would take it in
the spirit in which it was offered."




CHAPTER VII

PERSONALLY CONDUCTED


So this was how it happened that the Dean's letter went forth to Gilead,
and produced the hour when Kit stood on the platform of the Union Station
in Chicago, looking around her to discover any one who might appear to be
seeking a small boy.

Gradually the long platform that led up to the concourse cleared. Kit went
leisurely on, following the porter who carried her suit-case. She was
looking for some one who might resemble either the Dean or Miss Daphne
from her mother's description of them.

"As I remember him," Mrs. Robbins had said, "the Dean was very tall,
rather sparely built, but broad-shouldered and always with his head up to
the wind. His hair was gray, worn rather long and curly at the ends, and
he had the old-fashioned Gladstone whiskers. Miss Daphne was like a
little bird, a gentle, plump, busy Jenny Wren, with bright brown eyes and