“I don’t see it anywhere,” said Geraldine, rising. “Perhaps you put it away when you came in.” 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. Geraldine’s arms were round her friend’s neck in a moment. “You poor darling!” she cried, kissing her; “I knew somebody had been hurting your feelings; I just knew it! As if it were your fault that your father happened to be a German! I’d just like to kill the people who say unkind things to you.” “Oh, hush, hush, Geraldine,” soothed Gretel, smiling through her tears. “You mustn’t get so excited about nothing. No one has said anything unkind. That isn’t why I’m crying. It’s because--oh, I can’t talk about it, but war is so terrible! It makes even good people do things they would be ashamed of at any other time. I’m frightened, Geraldine; I suppose it’s foolish, but I can’t help being frightened.” Gretel laid her head on her friend’s shoulder with a sob. Geraldine soothed and comforted her as best she could, and in a few minutes Gretel dried her eyes and began to dress for dinner. But though she asked no more questions, Geraldine was not satisfied.