Gretel opened several bureau drawers, but there was no package to be found.
“I must have dropped it, or left it in the car,” she said. “Oh, I am sorry, for it was hard work getting what I wanted, and I had to try several shops.”
Geraldine looked puzzled.
“It isn’t a bit like you to forget things,” she said. “If it were I, now; but you, of all people! And you were so anxious to get that wool, too. What ever were you thinking about?”
Before Gretel could answer, there was a knock at the door and a maid appeared with a small parcel in her hand.
“This was left in the car,” she explained. “Thomas found it, and Mrs. Chester thinks it belongs to Miss Gretel.”
“Well, you didn’t lose it; that’s one comfort,” said Geraldine, glancing at her friend’s flushed, troubled face, when the maid had left the room. “You needn’t look so solemn about it. It isn’t a crime to forget a parcel. I hope nothing disagreeable happened while you were out. You didn’t meet Ada, did you?”
“Why, no,” said Gretel; “what made you think I had?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I just thought you might have met her, and she might have been in one of her patriotic moods. She seems to think that because she can’t go and shoot the Germans, it’s her duty to say all the awful things about them that she can think of. I don’t suppose any American approves of the dreadful things Germany has done, but we don’t think it necessary to be rude to every one who happens to have a German name. She’s got a boy cousin staying with her now, and Jerry and Paul say he’s an awful kid; spoiled to death, by his mother, and thinks he’s of more importance than anybody else, because his father was lost on the Lusitania.”
“Poor boy,” said Gretel, with a sigh; “I don’t blame him for hating the Germans. Oh, Geraldine, I think I realize more and more every day how horribly cruel war is!” And, to Geraldine’s utter astonishment, Gretel suddenly burst into tears.