The words were well chosen, and well spoken; Justine saw that they produced a good effect. Amherst grasped the physician's hand with a smile. "My dear fellow, I wish I could do more. Be sure to call on me again if you want help."
"Oh, you've put me on my feet," said Wyant gratefully.
He bowed slightly to Justine and turned to go; but as he reached the threshold she moved after him.
"Dr. Wyant—you must give back that letter."
He stopped short with a whitening face.
She felt Amherst's eyes on her again; and she said desperately, addressing him: "Dr. Wyant understands my reasons."
Her husband's glance turned abruptly to Wyant. "Do you?" he asked after a pause.
Wyant looked from one to the other. The moisture came out on his forehead, and he passed his hand over it again. "Yes," he said in a dry voice. "Mrs. Amherst wants me farther off—out of New York."
"Out of New York? What do you mean?"
Justine interposed hastily, before the answer could come. "It is because Dr. Wyant is not in condition—for such a place—just at present."