It was half past nine, and there would just be time before she was summoned to Mrs. Whitney to write a letter home to the dear aunts who would be watching and waiting hourly for the first word from her. Could she do it without showing so much as a hint of the excitement of the morning? Would she be able to keep the incident of the flier out of the atmosphere of her letter? Well, she must try, though she suspected that Aunt Jocelyn would find out. Aunt Jocelyn during the years had always somehow managed to find out everything in Amory’s life. It was hard to deceive a love so understanding and true. But this was something that must be kept from her at least while Amory was away, for it would only plant a seed of uneasiness that would give infinite pain to the two dear women—pain for which there was no need, and an uneasiness that had absolutely no foundation. For of course she would never see that flier again, and of course she must treat the incident as a mere opportunity to send forth her little Testament to plant a possible seed in a heart that needed it.
