In another minute the little lady tripped smilingly in.
"Well, Edward dear, how are you now? I heard you were not well, so I just came to inquire."
"I'm better now, thank you," returned Sir Edward gruffly. "I've given Hewett the sack, and this is my new doctor--Dr. Inglis. Do you know him?"
"Oh, yes, he has been attending me. I'm sure he has done me good, and I hope you'll benefit also, Edward. You can't _think_ how kind Dr. Inglis was to my darling Bijou when he broke his leg!"
"Having attended Bijou, it, of course, follows that Dr. Inglis will cure me," sneered Sir Edward. "How is the amiable Miss Pepper?"
"She's waiting outside with the dogs, as you said you wouldn't have her here. She's a faithful creature; I wish you liked her a little better, Edward dear."
"I never was fond of vinegar, Catherine."
"Oh, don't be so sarcastic, Edward! I never was clever; but you make me feel like a little girl again, when my governess scolded me."
There were tears in the watery blue eyes; but they did not seem to touch Sir Edward. "The remedy, my dear Catherine, is exceedingly simple," he blandly rejoined. "I know I'm a curmudgeon, unfit to associate with such an angel as you. Why then should you inflict upon yourself the unpleasantness of coming here? Why not stay away, to enjoy the more congenial society of Miss Pepper and the dogs?"
"So you don't want me, Edward? I think you're very unkind," returned Miss Geare, evidently wounded, but with a patient dignity Harold had not expected. He noticed that ever since she entered her gaze had wandered, at intervals, to an oil-painting of a fine-looking young man in uniform which hung over the mantelpiece. "But I know better than to take you at your word. You are all I have left--my dear Adrian's brother--and----" She broke down, and wiped the slow tears of age from her eyes.
Sir Edward gave an impatient sigh, and Harold interposed. "Allow me to remind you, Miss Geare, that my patient has had a very severe attack, and the quieter he is the better. Everything depends on that. I must go home now; and may I request the pleasure of your company to the gate, if you are ready?"
"Yes, do go home to Bijou!" fretfully murmured the invalid. And Miss Geare, after bestowing an affectionate farewell on the unresponsive Sir Edward, allowed Harold to politely conduct her to the lodge gate.