There were things about the General's case which were troubling Dr. McKenzie, and of which he could not speak. The old man had, undoubtedly been given something to drink on Thanksgiving Day.
Hilda had had strict orders, and the day nurse, and the only other person who had had access to the General's room was Bronson. He had made up his mind to speak to Derry about Bronson.
The meal progressed rather silently. The Doctor was preoccupied, taciturn. Miss Emily made futile efforts at conversation. Jean dallied with her dinner.
"My dear," the Doctor commented as she pushed away her salad, "you can't live on love."
"I'm not hungry. We had tea at the Club. Drusilla was there--and--we told her."
Blushing furiously, "That Derry and I are going to be--married."
"But you are not. Not for months. If that cub thinks he can carry you off from under my eyes he is mistaken. You've got to get acquainted with each other--I have seen too many unhappy marriages."
"But we are not going to be unhappy, Daddy."
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."
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--"
"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."
"My little girl--don't look like that." He reached out his arms to her.
"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.
"God knows, dearest. Until I am not needed."
"You are going to be my brave little girl."