e, sir."

"Why not?"

"She's not exactly a lady, and she's not exactly a nurse."

"I see." Derry, having glanced over a letter or two, had picked up an
envelope with embossed thistles on the flap. "But she is rather
pretty, Bronson."

"Pretty is as pretty does," sententiously.

Silence. Bronson looked across at the young man propped up among the
pillows. He was rereading the letter with the thistles on the flap.
The strained look had gone out of his eyes, and his lips were smiling.

"I think I'll get up."

"Changed your mind, sir?"

"Yes." He threw back the covers. "I've a thousand things to do."

But there was just one thing which he was going to do which stood out
beyond all others. Neither life nor death nor flood nor fire should
keep him from presenting himself at four o'clock at Jean McKenzie's
door, in response to the precious note which in a moment had changed
the world for him.

CHAPTER IX

ROSE-COLOR!

Jean found the day stretching out ahead of her in a series of exciting
events. At the breakfast table her father told her that Hilda would
stay on General Drake's case, and that she had better have Emily
Bridges up for a visit.

"I don't like to have you alone at night, if I am called away."

"It will be heavenly, Daddy, to have Emily--"

And how was he to know that there were other heavenly things to happen?
She had resolved that if Derry came, she would tell her father
afterwards. But he might not come, so what was the use of being
premature?

She sallied down to the Toy Shop in high feather. "You are to stay
with us, Emily."

"Oh, am I? How do you know that I can make it convenient?"

"But you will, darling."

Jean's state of mind was beatific. She painted Lovely Dreams with a
touch of inspiration which resulted in a row of purple camels:
"Midnight on the Desert," Jean called them.

"Oh, Emily," she said, "we must have them in the window on Christmas
morning, with the Wise Men and the Star--"

Emily, glancing at the face above the blue apron, was struck by the
radiance of it.

"Is it because Hilda is away?" she asked.

"Is what--?"

"Your--rapture."

Jean laughed. "It is because Hilda is away, and other things. But I
can't tell you now."

Then for fear Emily might be hurt by her secrecy, she flew to kiss her
and again call her "Darling."

At noon she put on her hat and ran home, or at least her heart ran, and
when she reached the house she sought the k