"I thought it was the proper thing to do," he replied, to her little stiff expression of regret that he should have troubled himself so far.
"What was the proper thing?" she asked captiously. "I am quite accustomed to walking home in the dark."
"Proper to act up to your opinion of me, and be self-sacrificing, perhaps." He paused, then said, suddenly, "Don't let us quarrel, Miss Carmichael; it is such a lovely evening."
True a thousand-fold! True beyond measure! The light had left everything, save the sky and the sea as they walked on side by side silently.
"How's the patient?" he said, at last, reverting somewhat to the old, airy, half-bantering tone.
"Well; thanks to you. If he had walked home he might have been laid up for days."
"I did as little as I could, I assure you."
"On the contrary, you did more than was necessary. Paul told me how you comforted him, and sang songs all the way to cheer him up."
She would not allow him this denial of his own virtues, or accept his estimate of himself.
"That was to cheer myself up, and forget my dislike to carrying a dirty little boy, I expect. The study of one's own motives, Miss Carmichael----"