"I don't think Mrs. King has been down there for about a week."
"Indeed! She told me she was going to Farnham yesterday."
"She was certainly not there before I left, and that was late in the afternoon."
"And shall you see Mary again soon, doctor?"
Mary's letter was in his pocket; he had received it that morning, and had been beside himself with delight ever since. His exultation rang in his voice as he replied:
"I am going to see her to-morrow morning."
Susan perceived the expression in his eyes, and his joy irritated her excessively. "Well, good-night, Dr. Duncan," she said, in a harder tone. "Thank you for your good news. When you see Mary, to-morrow, give her my love, and please tell her that I inquired about her. Say that I have not forgotten her and won't. Don't forget will you, doctor?"
"I don't like that cunning face of yours, Mrs. Riley," he said to himself when she had gone. "I distrust you. It is foolish of me, but I cannot help it. I cannot help imagining you dislike my poor little bird down there—and yet you seemed very anxious about her when she was ill. There is thorough malice in your voice and eye, but we don't fear you."
His love for Mary had inspired him with a subtle instinct, that told him when danger to her was near; and he felt a strong antipathy for the pretty woman with the wicked languishing eyes.