She had a feeling, although she could not be certain, that he did not know her aunt’s address.
She had certainly never communicated with him since her sister’s death, but she used to write to Jabina on her birthday and at Christmas.
Sometimes too when war did not prohibit it, presents arrived from France, which was to Jabina a very special and thrilling treat.
There had been a pair of thin suede gloves with pearl buttons, fashioned by nuns were nightgowns of finest muslin, inset with lace and made with such perfect tiny stitches they might have been the work of fairy creatures.
There had been lace-edged handkerchiefs and other gifts all in exquisite taste, which were just the type of personal adornment to please a growing girl.
“Aunt Elspeth will understand,” she told herself, “that I
