"Come to my study," answered her brother quietly.
"And leave your patient to amuse himself? Really, Guy, you exercise the rites of hospitality so rarely that you forget the ordinary requirements. Apropos, your little protegee has not returned. It seems she did not fancy living here, and prefers staying at the asylum. I would not trouble myself about her, if I were you. Some people cannot appreciate kindness, you know." She uttered this piece of counsel with perfect sangfroid, and met her brother's eye as innocently as Pauline would have done.
"I am thoroughly acquainted with her objections to this place, and determined to remove them so completely that she cannot refused to return."
A gray pallor crept over his sister's face; but she replied, with her usual equanimity.
"You have seen her, then? I thought you had hurried back to your sick friend here, without pausing by the way."
"No! I have not seen her, and, you are aware, her voluntary promise would seal her lips, even if I had." He smiled contemptuously, as he saw her puzzled look, and continued: "Percy will excuse you for a few moments; come with me. Pauline, entertain this gentleman in our absence."
She took his offered arm, and they proceeded to the study in silence.
"Sit down." Dr. Hartwell pushed a chair toward her, and stood looking her fully in the face. She did not shrink, and asked unconcernedly:
"Well, Guy, to what does all this preamble lead?"
"May, is the doctrine of future punishments laid down as orthodox, in that elegantly gilded prayer-book you take with you in your weekly pilgrimages to church?"