"'Except for that'?" she echoed, "no, Dr. Ferris, nothing in the
world--but 'that'!"
"And you must remember," he continued, in his pleasant, soothing
voice, "that it may not be for long, after all. If you continue to
improve as you have--" She flung away impatiently. "Oh, yes, you
have improved, you know; you eat better, you sleep better, your
nerves are quieter. We get good reports of you. Many are ill longer
than you. Do you like the new masseuse?"
She did not answer.
"Now, this little lady must have some lunch with us, and then, no
doubt, we shall see that careless chauffeur again," he said easily.
"Would you like to stay?" he asked Caroline.
"Yes, I would."
"Mary was always fickle, you know," he laughed, glancing at her
clinging hand.
And, indeed, Caroline found him far more winning than the sulky,
silent Joan, and leaned confidingly against him as they climbed the
stone steps and passed through the rich, dark-paneled hall, hung
with bright pictures, filled with bowls of flowers. Several men,
uniformed like the gardener, stood about the steps and terraces;
two stood by the door of a large, airy dining-room filled with
hurrying waiters. About a long silver-laden table some twenty men
and women, cool in lawn and lace and white flannel, were seated,
eating and talking gaily.
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