"Yes, dear."
"You are right! I can't marry Dick!" There was a catch of her breath, but the tone was sternly resolute.
Mrs. Winton held down her joy.
"I was sure you would see it soon."
"I love him—dearly—but—I can't!"
She sat down with a reckless air, and opened her writing-case. "Father said I ought to write. I—suppose I must. He won't believe—if anybody else says it."
"You know his address—?" cautiously.
"He told me where he would be in town—to-morrow morning. I said I wouldn't let anybody else have it."
Mrs. Winton, with rare wisdom, kept silence. Ten minutes went by; and still Doris gazed upon a blank sheet.
"I don't know what to say," came at length. Mrs. Winton slowly approached. "Will you let me help you?"