"Yes," said Jean thoughtfully, "there must be. Thank you for the suggestion. I will try."
When she rose to go, Mrs. Fergusson placed her hand affectionately on her shoulder.
"I must see more of you, dear. If you are in lodgings, you must have lonely evenings. You must spend some of them with me. Can you dine with me to-morrow night?"
Jean accepted gladly, and every detail of that evening at the "Windsor" remained long in her memory.
She arrived clad in her best evening gown, a white crêpe de chine with bands of gold embroidery, and a bunch of yellow roses at her breast.
Very sweet and bewitching she looked, and when Mrs. Fergusson, who was talking to her son, saw her enter, her keen bright eyes dwelt on the doctor's face as he greeted her, and she said to herself—
"I never thought she was so taking. I am beginning to suspect Leslie's silence and indifference about her."
It was a cheerful little dinner-party. Jean enjoyed seeing the mother and son together; their conversation was out of the ordinary, and she listened with intense interest when topics of the day were touched upon.
Dr. Fergusson saw her home.
Jean for the first time since her drive with him to Strathglen, saw and heard him out of Sunnie's presence. He was a different man. His light badinage and humorous gaiety were entirely put aside. A stern gravity and keen alertness of thought and speech were now his characteristics.