"You are looking better, Mary," he said, as he entered; "why, you have got quite a pretty color in your cheeks."
"Don't talk nonsense, please. I am better, a great deal better, but it is no wonder I have a color, I have been blushing with shame at my own folly ever since you were here."
"If you never do anything more foolish than that, you will get through life well enough. Appearances were against me, and you jumped at conclusions a little too fast. Let us say no more about it."
"You are not looking so well, I think, Cuthbert."
"No. I have been a little bothered."
"Have you seen that man Cumming?" she asked, quickly.
"Yes," he answered, in some surprise, "though what should make you associate him with my being bothered I don't know."
"You said that you were going to see him, and somehow, I don't know why, I have been rather worrying over it. Was the interview satisfactory, did you learn what you wanted?"
"Not altogether," he said, "but it is all a matter of conjecture, Mary, and I own that it has worried me a bit, and, indeed, I am sorry I went to him at all. However, as it is business and ladies are not good at business, suppose we talk of something else."
Mary made no reply, but sat looking at him while she twisted her fingers nervously before her. "May I ask one question, Cuthbert?"