"Of course. Jean, dear, may I tell
Drusilla?"
"As if you had to tell me," Drusilla scoffed; "it is written all over
you."
"Is it?" Derry marvelled.
"It is. The whole room is lighted up with it. You are a lucky man,
Derry,"--for a moment her bright eyes were shadowed--"and Jean is a
lucky girl." She leaned down and kissed the woman that Derry loved.
"Oh, you Babes in the Wood--"
"By Jove," the Captain ejaculated, much taken by the little scene, "do
you mean that they are going to be married?"
"Rather," Drusilla mocked him. "But don't shout it from the housetops.
Derry is a public personage, and it might get in the papers."
"It is not to get in the papers yet," Derry said. "Dr. McKenzie won't
let me tell Dad--he's too ill--but we told you because you are my good
friend, Drusilla."
She might have been more than that, but he did not know it. When he
went away with Jean, she looked after him wistfully.
"Good-bye, little Galahad," she said.
The Captain stared. "Oh, I say, do you call him that?"
She nodded.
"He's a knight in shining armor--"
"I can't understand why he's not fightin'.
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