“Strange!” issued from the doctor’s lips; and his face, which had been hard to read from the first, became more and more inscrutable.
“My mother, who is as wise as she is gentle, advises Polly to give up the cottage to her father; but not to live in it with him till his character is better understood and his intentions made manifest.”
“Then your mother sees this man in the same light as others do?”
“She certainly considers him to be Ephraim Earle. It is not natural for her to think otherwise under the circumstances.”
“I do indeed stand alone,” quoth the doctor.
“When I told her,” pursued Clarke, “what you had said, she looked amazed but she said nothing to show that she had changed her opinion. I do not think any one was really affected by your words.”
Something in the tone in which this was said showed where Clarke himself stood. A bitter smile crossed the doctor’s lip, and he seemed more than ever anxious to be gone.
“I shall be away,” he said, “several days. When I come back I hope to see this thing settled.”
“I hate him,” burst from Polly’s lips. “I am terrified at my thoughts of him, but in my inner consciousness I know him to be my father, and I shall try and do my duty by him; shall I not, Clarke?”
Clarke, who had felt himself almost unnecessary in this scene, grasped at the opportunity which this appeal gave him and took her tenderly by the arm.