As a matter of fact, she had made her first real excursion into the
land of romance. She found her thoughts galloping.

At the foot of the bed her silver Persian, Polly Ann, lay curled on her
own gray blanket.

"Polly Ann," Jean said, "if he doesn't come, I shall hate myself for
writing that note."

Polly Ann surveyed her sleepily.

"But it would serve me right if he didn't, Polly Ann."

She turned off the light and tried to sleep. Downstairs the telephone
rang. It rang, too, in Hilda's room. Hilda's door opened and shut.
She came across the hall and tapped on Jean's door. "May I come in?"

"Yes."

"Your father has just telephoned," Hilda said from the threshold, "that
General Drake's nurse is not well, and will have to be taken off the
case. I shall have to go in her place. There is a great shortage at
the hospital. Will you be afraid to stay alone, or shall I wake up
Ellen and have her sleep on the couch in your dressing room?"

"Of course I am not afraid, Hilda. Nothing can happen until father
comes back."

As Hilda went away, Jean had a delicious feeling of detachment. She