“Why should she unmake you? She seems to take a pride in you and in your admiration for her.”
“My what?”
“Only this afternoon, Dr. Shayle, she was telling me what you had said about her powers of introspection and concentration.”
“Her powers of—— You little chump!” He glanced toward the stairway; controlled his incipient laugh; added guardedly: “She hasn’t enough concentration to write a postal card.”
“Then why do you flatter her so?”
“Ladies’ pets are trained to meet the demands for flattery of their petters. Catherine has a certain surface shrewdness, yes. But you can’t ‘reach’ her. Don’t worry about her. Worry about me, Dolores. Tut, don’t scold me! You wouldn’t if you knew how long I’ve wanted to call you Dolores to your face. I am doing what is awfully hard for me, not to have you point out my weaknesses, but in the hope that you’ll encourage me to——”
With a smothered imprecation, he stopped. From his slumped position he had seen before Dolores that Mrs. Cabot was ascending the stairs. At the top of the climb she stopped and saw them. She was dressed in a negligee of yellow satin and lace and looked exceedingly angry.
“I thought I heard voices and wondered if this could be possible.” Her upper lip whitened over the mouse teeth as she directly addressed Dr. Shayle. “Don’t you know that I am waiting for my treatment?”
The color of the young man’s hair blended into his forehead and cheeks. He got to his feet.
“Miss Trent and I have had quite a talk.” Although obviously nervous, he forced his coaxing smile. “We’ve discussed most of the important questions of the day. Not that we’ve got anything settled at the present moment. But we’ve exercised our minds and so have made progress, even if the world——”