mind had been revolving around this letter, but she had had no time to
write. She had spent the afternoon in the Toy Shop with Emily, and in
the evening there had been a Red Cross sale. She had gone to the sale
with Ralph Witherspoon and his mother. She had not been able to get
out of going. All the time she had talked to Ralph she had thought of
Derry. She had rather hoped that he might be there, but he wasn't.

The letter required much thought. She tore up, extravagantly, several
sheets of note-paper with tiny embossed thistles at the top. Doctor
McKenzie was intensely Scotch, and he was entitled to a crest, but he
was also intensely American, and would have none of it. He had
designed Jean's note-paper, and it was lovely. But it was also
expensive, and it was a shame to waste so much of it on Derry Drake.

The note when it was finished seemed very simple. Just one page in
Jean's firm, clear script:


"Dear Mr. Drake:--

"Could you spare me one little minute tomorrow? I shall be at home at
four. It is very important--to me at least. Perhaps when you hear
what I have to say, it will seem important to you. I hope it may.

"Very sincerely yours,

"JEAN MCKENZIE."


She read it over several times. It seemed very stiff and inadequate.