"Third and last of course," retorted the other. "That's you English all over. You don't know what work is. Still, Old Town for your wife and New Town for your practice—may be something in it after all."
The surgeon opened the window.
"Come and be introduced," he said, and led the way across the lawn. "She'd like to meet you."
Mrs. Trupp showed herself delightfully shy in her large and royal way. Mr. Caspar was Mr. Caspar; and the fair creature knew the secret of Mr. Caspar's son. She was indeed the only woman in Beachbourne who knew it, and that not because Mr. Trupp had told her, but because she was the only woman in whom Anne Caspar had confided,—as had, in fact, Edward too. Her meeting therefore with Mr. Caspar senior was full of dramatic possibilities. Her innocent soul thrilled with pleasurable alarm at the perilous character of the situation. She felt a little guilty and wholly defensive; and her transparent face betrayed every emotion as a pool reflects a cloud.
Mr. Caspar watched her as she worked, with admiration and amusement.
"You've come down to see your son, I expect," she said in her charming leisured voice.
"I have," he answered brusquely, the light flashing in his eyes. "He seems snug enough. Not bad lodgings."
"As lodgings go," said Mrs. Trupp, delicately, bending over her work as her colour came and went.
"That's a queer creature," continued Mr. Caspar.
"Who?"