"She does not eat with us," said Joan, helping her to chicken and
green peas, and beginning her own meal.
The doctor turned to them, having recommended some asparagus to the
stolid lady at his left.
"I am glad to see your appetite so good, Miss Aitken," he observed,
lowering his voice a little, "at this rate we shall have no excuse
for keeping you much longer."
"You have had none for six months," she replied curtly.
"I am sorry you feel so bitterly," he said, "but you know I can not
agree with you there. You will think more kindly of me some day, I
hope, when time has freed your mind of its prejudice."
"When will that be?" she asked, meeting his eyes full for a moment.
"I wrote only this morning to your uncle, stating your gradual but
steady improvement, and assuring him that in my opinion--subject, of
course, to circumstances--it would be a matter of a few months more
only," he said. "Does not that make your feelings a little--only a
little more tender--"
"What did you say?" a shrill voice interrupted, "say that again,
please."
Caroline had beguiled the woman next her, a frail, anemic little
creature with pathetic eyes, into a halting conversation.
"I said," she repeated, buttering her roll thickly and
appreciatively with fresh, clover-scented butter, "I said that no
weather was too hot for me.
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