"I came over here, for a few days, and I took the liberty of calling on you. The people at the house told me you had spoken of coming out here, so I came on the chance of finding you. But was something—?" He hesitated.
Phebe rubbed away her tears.
"Yes, something was," she answered, with an attempt at her usual briskness. "You caught me off my guard, Mr. Barrett. The fact is, I am desperately homesick."
"Then why don't you go home?" he asked prosaically, for he had learned, even in his slight experience at Quantuck, that it was not wise to take a sentimental tone in addressing Phebe.
"I can't. I came down here for a year, and I must stick it out."
"What's the use?"
"Because I never do give in. It would be babyish. Besides, I am going to be a doctor."
"I don't see why. It isn't in your line."
"I begin to think nothing is in my line," Phebe said forlornly.
"What else have you tried?"