"Not at all," I faltered. "It was kind of you to ask; but I cannot tell you about it."
A moment's silence followed; then he said:
"Do you know that Miss Cottrell was working in this garden at seven o'clock?"
"Was she really?" I said. "I cannot see her part of the garden from my window. How very energetic of her!"
"Was it not? But, of course, she needs fresh air and exercise. I suppose she does not have to do a great deal of nursing."
"Why, no! There is a trained nurse who takes charge of Paulina at night, and who is available also for part of the day," I explained. "I was thinking that Miss Cottrell would feel anxious about her flowers. You did not speak to her, I suppose?"
"No; I only saw her from my window," he replied. "She was applying the hoe with much vigour. She is one to do very thoroughly whatever she undertakes."
"That is true," I said. "It is splendid the way she has devoted herself to Paulina. Mr. Dicks has good cause to feel grateful to her."
The breakfast gong sounded, and we obeyed its summons. Mr. Dicks had already taken his place at the table, and was talking eagerly to Aunt Patty when we entered the room.
"Come, Miss Nan," he cried as he saw me, "what do you say to our celebrating your return, by having a picnic?"