Dr. Harpe was seated in a porch chair, with one leg thrown over the arm, swinging her dangling foot, when Mrs. Symes appeared. She turned her head and eyed her critically, as she stood in the doorway.
"Gus, you're gettin' to be a looker."
Mrs. Symes smiled with pleasure at the compliment.
"You are for a fact; that's a nifty way you have of doin' your hair and you walk as if you had some gumption. Come here, Gus."
Dr. Harpe pushed her unpinned Stetson to the back of her head with a careless gesture; it was a man's gesture and her strong hand beneath the stiff cuff of her tailored shirtwaist strengthened the impression of masculinity.
She arose and motioned Mrs. Symes to take the chair she had vacated while she seated herself upon the arm.
"Where have you been all day?" There was reproach in Mrs. Symes's dark eyes as she raised them to the woman's face.
"Have you missed me?" A faint smile curved Dr. Harpe's lips.
"Missed you! I've been so nervous and restless all day that I couldn't sit still."
"Why didn't you come over to the hotel?" Dr. Harpe was watching her troubled face intently.