“There must be more to see?” she continued, as they turned back toward the village; and he answered absently: “Oh, yes—if you like.”
He heard the change in his own voice, and knew by her quick side-glance that she had heard it too.
“Please let me see everything that is compatible with my getting a car to Hanaford by six.”
“Well, then—the night-school next,” he said with an effort at lightness; and to shake off the importunity of his own thoughts he added carelessly, as they walked on: “By the way—it seems improbable—but I think I saw Dr. Wyant yesterday in a Westmore car.”
She echoed the name in surprise. “Dr. Wyant? Really! Are you sure?”
“Not quite; but if it wasn’t he it was his ghost. You haven’t heard of his being at Hanaford?”
“No. I’ve heard nothing of him for ages.”
Something in her tone made him return her side-glance; but her voice, on closer analysis, denoted only indifference, and her profile seemed to express the same negative sentiment. He remembered a vague Lynbrook rumour to the effect that the young doctor had been attracted to Miss Brent. Such floating seeds of gossip seldom rooted themselves in his mind, but now the fact acquired a new significance, and he wondered how he could have thought so little of it at the
time. Probably her somewhat exaggerated air of in-
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