"Shall I see him, then?" she asked.
"I don't care, Aunt Belinda."
The maid waited, casting curious glances from one to the other.
"Henry says Mr. King's been wonderful," said Miss Barry, after a moment of waiting. "The greatest help in the world: always kept his head, and thought of the right thing to do, though he was suffering so."
"I'm not—" Linda tried to reply, but her lips quivered, and she bit them. "I can't see him," she ended abruptly.
Miss Barry nodded comprehension. The associations would naturally be overwhelming.
"I'll go down, then," she said, sighing, and laying down her work. "I suppose I shall tell him you thank him for all he has done, and for the flowers every day."
"No." Linda faced her aunt, and again life leaped in her eyes. "I'm not sending any message. Remember that."
Miss Barry frowned in perplexity, thinking of Mrs. Porter's confidences concerning King.
"Oh, law," she thought wearily, "I suppose she's refused him."