do you know?"

Her cheeks were blazing. Miss Emily interposed. "Don't tease her,
she's too tired."

"If he is teasing, I don't care," Jean said, "but it always sounds as
if he meant it."

After dinner, the Doctor laid his hand on his daughter's shoulder. "I
want to talk to you, daughter."

"Is it about Derry, Daddy?"

"About myself."

Emily, understanding, left them alone. Jean sat in her low chair in
front of the fire, her earnest eyes on her father. "Well, Daddy."

He patted her hand. It was hard for him to speak.

She saw his emotion. "Is--is it because I am going to marry Derry?"

"That, and more than that. Jean, dear, I must go to France--"

"To France?"

"Yes. They want me to head a hospital. I don't see how I can refuse,
and keep my self-respect. But it means--leaving you."

"Leaving me--"

"My little girl--don't look like that." He reached out his arms to her.

She came, and clung to him. "How soon?"

"As soon as I can wind things up here."

"It--it seems as if I couldn't let you."

"Then you'll miss me, dearest?"

"You know I will, Daddy."

"But you will have your Derry." His jealousy forced that.

"As if it makes any difference about--you."

She hid her face against his coat. She felt suddenly that the war was
assuming a new and very personal aspect. Of course men had to go. But
she and her father had never been separated--not for more than a day or
week, or a month when she was at the shore.

"How long, Daddy?"

"God knows, dearest. Until I am not needed."

"But--" her lip trembled.

"You are going to be my brave little girl."

"I'll try--" the tears were running down her cheeks.

"You wouldn't have me not go, would you?"

She shook her head and sobbed on his shoulder. He soothed her and
presently she sat up. Quite gallantly she agreed that she would stay
with Emily. If he thought she was too young to marry Derry now, she
would wait. If Derry went into it, it might be easier to let him go as
a lover than as a husband--she thought it might be easier. Yes, she
would try to sleep when she went upstairs--and she would remember that
her old Daddy loved her, loved her, and she was to ask God to bless
him--and keep him--when they were absent one from the other--.

She kissed him and clung to him and then went upstairs. She undressed
and said her prayers, put Polly-Ann on her cushion, turned off the
light, and got into bed.

Then she lay in the dark, fa