Mrs. Greatorex held out her hand to him.
"How good of you to come!" said she, in her low, cultivated voice. "And after your hard day's work, too."
"I like work. How do you feel this evening—you are better? You look better. You will be out of my hands altogether soon, and I shall be left desolate."
His eyes wandered to the figure bending over the primroses, but she seemed engrossed with her pretty flowers.
She was tall, slender, graceful, with dark hair, and a mouth beautiful in its strength and purity. Her eyes were her chief feature, and shone like stars. They were a clear gray—soft and kind by day, dark and even kinder by night; and so full of expression, love and laughter, grief and quick delight, tenderness and anger: all things those perfect eyes could declare in their right season.
Just now they were lowered, so it was hard to see what lay within their shining depths; but a little line across her forehead showed that her thoughts were not altogether pleasant. She bent even more assiduously over the flowers, and showed no disposition to go forward and add to the pleasant reception her aunt was giving Dr. Darkham.
The latter had been going through the usual formula with Mrs. Greatorex, feeling her pulse, asking about her appetite, etc., and then had drifted into a light gossip. This pleased his patient, and gave him leisure to gaze on the lovely figure in the window. He hardly cared that she did not speak to him.
After a time he rose, and bid Mrs. Greatorex good-bye. Then he turned deliberately to the girl.
"If you can spare me one moment, Miss Nesbitt, there is just a word or two I would say to you about our patient here," with a smile and bow towards Mrs. Greatorex. "She has been making a little too free, I am afraid, and if you will let me write a prescription in the next room—-"
"Certainly," said Agatha, courteously but coldly. She let her flowers fall, and led the way to the little anteroom beyond, hidden by a falling curtain, where a tiny writing-room had been made up.