Oh, little room, little room, the child that once lived here will never
come again!
She knelt beside the bed, her face buried in her hands. No words came,
but in her heart she was saying, "My beloved is mine--and I am his--"
When she went down, Dr. McKenzie was there, and Emily, and the two
young soldiers had lost their awkwardness. When they found out
afterwards that the young Drake who talked to them so simply and
unaffectedly was DeRhymer Drake, the multi-millionaire, they refused to
believe it. "He was a mighty nice chap. He didn't put on a bit of
side, and the dinner was some feast."
And how could they know that Derry was envying them their cavalry
yellow and their olive drab?
As for Jean, throughout the afternoon they gazed upon her as upon an
enchanting vision. When they told her "Good-bye" it was the boldest
who asked, with a flush on his hard cheek, if he might have a bit of
the heather which she wore. "I am Scotch myself, and my mother was,
and it would seem a sort of mascot."
If she hesitated for a moment it was only Derry who noticed it. And he
helped her out. "It will be a proud day for the heather.
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