"Yes," answered Dr. Green. "I have. She has possibilities."
"I saw by accident your check for her piano," said Thomasina. "It lay on the desk in the company's office."
"Did you?" asked Dr. Green coolly. His tone could have been no more severe if Thomasina had opened and read one of his letters. "What did you conclude from that?"
Thomasina did not answer his question.
"It is worst of all for Basil Everman," said she. "When one thinks of him, it becomes monstrous. Doesn't it seem so to you, Dr. Green?"
Green rose to his feet. He met Thomasina's eyes coolly.
"Miss Thomasina—"
Thomasina lifted her hand.
"What I concluded was simply that you knew more about Mrs. Bent and her daughter than the rest of us," said she. "I am sure that Eleanor has an honorable paternity and Mrs. Bent a history that could be safely revealed. But one could not go to her and ask her!"
"From your own account the danger of this myth becoming public is so small as to be almost negligible. Since Mrs. Bent and her daughter are not likely to stay in Waltonville, it is wholly negligible. As for my connection with the Bents—it is this—I believe that Eleanor has a mind of great promise. I have tried to influence her and I shall continue to try."