She had a florist up in two hours—and the rose-colored drawing room was rosier than ever, and as fragrant as a garden.
She telephoned the clergyman—"At ten o'clock tomorrow."
She telephoned the caterer—"A wedding breakfast—"
She telephoned the dressmaker—"Miss McKenzie's gown—"
She telephoned Margaret and Marion Gray—.
"Is there anyone else?" she asked the Doctor. "I suppose we really ought to tell the General."
"Certainly not."
"But Bronson—? Derry will want him."
"If he can keep a secret—yes."
Jean and Derry, arriving after dark, were swept into a scene of excitement.