"Returning very soon, dearest. Remain patient. Tell my sister. Love.—GERRY."
Time after time she read it with complete satisfaction, and afterwards she went out to Ealing and showed it to her lover's sister.
"That takes a great weight off my mind, Marigold," said Gerald's sister. "Still, his sudden disappearance seems very strange. I wonder why he's gone away—and why he's in Birmingham?"
"Yes," replied the girl. "It does seem curious, but think I know the reason."
"What is it?" asked his sister anxiously.
"A secret reason," was Marigold's reply. "I'm sorry that I can't tell you—not unless he gives me permission."
"What—is anything wrong?" asked the young woman.
"Oh, nothing wrong with Gerald—not at all. Only he is trying to find out something—that's all. And until he is successful I don't think he wants anyone to know his intentions."
"Well, I hope he's made it right at his office. Employers don't like men who pretend to be ill at home and go away."
"No doubt he has. Gerald isn't a fool," the girl replied, a little piqued at his sister's words, and very soon afterwards she left for home.