"Who told you?"
"Dr. Mackenzie."
"Oh, he's been again, has he?"
"Yes." Her voice had a ring in it. "And he will come tomorrow."
"And the next day, I suppose, and the next. I should have thought he'd spare that old nag of his; but no, up he comes, and I want to know why."
She did not answer immediately because she feared to betray the indignation that moved in her like a living thing. She found her sewing and signed to him to put her chair into its place, and when she had stitched steadily for a time she said in pleasant tones, "George, you are like a bad person in a book."
"I'm not up to this kind of talk. You told me yourself that Mrs. Caniper hardly needs a doctor. What does he come for, then? Is it for you?"
"No, it is not."
"Do you like the man?"
She opened her lips and shut them several times before she spoke. "I'm very fond of him—and of Daniel."