Joan had given them notice that
morning, and had been surprised at the woman's bursting into tears.
"I felt it just the same when young Mr. McKean left us," she explained
with apologies. "He had been with us five years. He was like you, miss,
so unpracticable. I'd got used to looking after him."
Mary Greyson called on her in the morning, while she was still at
breakfast. She had come from seeing Francis off by an early train from
Euston. He had sent Joan a ring.
"He is so afraid you may not be able to wear it--that it will not fit
you," said Mary, "but I told him I was sure it would."
Joan held our her hand for the letter. "I was afraid he had forgotten
it," she answered, with a smile.
She placed the ring on her finger and held out her hand. "I might have
been measured for it," she said. "I wonder how he knew."
"You left a glove behind you, the first day you ever came to our house,"
Mary explained. "And I kept it."
She was following his wishes and going down into the country. They did
not meet again until after the war.
Madge dropped in on her during the week and brought Flossie with her.
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