John looked up in astonishment at her excitement.
"Who said so?"
"Dr. Thatcher, the man who visited our school today. He said I'd ought to go, and he said he'd help me."
Her exultation passed suddenly. Somehow there was not so much to tell as she had fancied, and she suddenly found herself unable to explain the basis of her enthusiasm. The perceived, but untranslatable expression of the Doctor's eyes and voice was the real foundation of her hope, and that she had not definitely and consciously noted—to explain it was impossible. If her father could only have seen him!
"I guess you'd better wait awhile," her father said, with a smile, which Rose resented.
"He's coming tonight."
"Who's he?"
"Dr. Thatcher. He used to live here. He knows you."
John grew a little more intent on her news.
"Does! I wonder if he is old Stuart Thatcher's son? He had a boy who went east to school somewheres."