"At least I'm not a white-tied waiter," cried Mr. Driver, with a laugh, in which all joined. Then in low voice Dolly said—
"I met Mr. Purling at Purlington."
At which her father turned upon her with newly-raised suspicion. Why had she not mentioned the fact before? But something in Mrs. Driver's face deterred him. A woman in these matters sees how the land lies, while the cleverest man is still unable to distinguish it from the clouds upon the horizon-line.
"We are pleased to know you, Harold," said Mrs. Driver, a gentle, soft-voiced motherly person.
"You have really come to practise here?" went on the father, still rather on his guard.
"I wanted sea-air. The change will do me good," replied Harold, rather evasively. "I like the place, too."
Not a doubt of it. Harbridge was after his own heart, and so were some people who lived in it. He found it so much to his taste that he declared within a week or two that he thought of remaining there altogether. He would go into partnership with the local doctor; perhaps he had another partnership also in his eye.
"Can't you see what's going on under your nose, father?" asked Mrs. Driver.
"What do I care? I shall not interfere."
"Mrs. Purling will never give her consent. Poor Doll!"