"'Forsaking all others,'" murmured Drusilla.

"Yet she loves me."

"It isn't that she loves you less--she loves him more."

"Don't," he lifted his hand. "I am not sure that I can stand it."

"It makes your way clear. That's why I have said it. There will be
nothing now to keep you back from France."

Once upon a time she had said to Derry, "I can feel things, and I can
make others feel." She had, perhaps, tonight, been a little cruel, but
she had been cruel with a purpose.

All the way home Doctor McKenzie was very silent. When he kissed his
daughter before she went upstairs, he held her close and smoothed her
hair, but not a word did he say of the thing which had come to him.

He asked Emily, however, to wait a moment. "I have a letter to answer.
I should like your advice."

Wondering a little, she sat down by the fire. The peacocky scarf gave
out glittering lights of blue and green. She was tired and there were
shadows under her eyes.

He came at once to his proposition. "I am thinking of going to France,
Emily. If I do, can you stay with Jean?"

She turned her startled gaze upon him. "To France? Why?"