"I must go, too," said Derry, and took Jean's hand. He stood looking
down at her. "May I come tomorrow?"

"Oh,--yes--"

"There's one thing that I should like more than anything, if we could
go to church together--to be thankful that--that we've found each
other--"

Tears in the shining eyes!

"Why are you crying?"

"Because it is so--sweet."

"Then you'll go?"

"I'd love it."

He dropped her hand and got away. She was little and young, so
divinely innocent. He felt that he must not take unfair advantage of
that mood of exaltation.

He drove straight downtown and ordered flowers for her. Remembering
the nun's dress, he sent violets in a gray basket, with a knot on the
handle of heavenly blue.

The flowers came while Jean was at dinner. Emily was in Hilda's place,
a quiet contrast in her slenderness and modest black to Hilda's
opulence. Dr. McKenzie had not had time to dress.