hard nursing; I want to help people who are miserable.”
She spoke earnestly, almost passionately, and as he listened his undefined fear was lifted. He had never before seen her in this mood, with brooding brows, and the darkness of the world’s pain in her eyes. All her glow had faded—she was a dun thrush-like creature, clothed in semi-tints; yet she seemed much nearer than when her smile shot light on him.
He stood motionless, his eyes absently fixed on the bunch of violets at her feet. Suddenly he raised his head, and broke out with a boyish blush: “Could it have been Wyant who was trying to see you?”
“Dr. Wyant—trying to see me?” She lowered her hands to the desk, and sat looking at him with open wonder.
He saw the irrelevance of his question, and burst; in spite of himself, into youthful laughter.
“I mean— It’s only that an unknown visitor called at the house yesterday, and insisted that you must have arrived. He seemed so annoyed at not finding you, that I thought … I imagined … it must be some one who knew you very well … and who had followed you here … for some special reason.…”
Her colour rose again, as if caught from his; but her eyes still declared her ignorance. “Some special reason?”
[ 463 ]
