"Then tell me that you forgive me!"
"If I once begin, I shall be tempted to tell something else," he said, looking me through and through with those great dusky eyes. "And I will tell it," he went on, his grasp on my hands growing firmer-"It is easy to forgive when one loves." I pulled my hands away, and burst out crying again.
"Oh, Dr. Elliott this is dreadful!" I said. "You do not, you cannot love me! You are so much older than I am! So grave and silent! You are not in earnest?"
"I am only too much so," he said, and went quietly out.
I went back to the nursery. The children rushed upon me, and insisted that I should "play die." I let them pull me about as they pleased. I only wished I could play it in earnest.
Chapter 8
VIII
JUNE 28.
MOTHER writes me that Dr. Cabot is out of danger, Dr. Elliott having thrown new light on his case, and performed some sort of an operation that relieved him at once. I am going home. Nothing would tempt me to encounter those black eyes again. Besides, the weather is growing warm, and Aunty is getting ready to go out of town with the children.
JUNE 29.-Aunty insisted on knowing why I was hurrying home so suddenly, and at last got it out of me inch by inch. On the whole it was a relief to have some one to speak to.