Presently we rejoined the ladies, and while Fairchild and Miriam chatted together in the bow window, I drew Josephine aside, and communicated to her the upshot of our post-prandial conversation. She breathed a mighty sigh, and professed herself to be enormously relieved.
CHAPTER XII.—THE DOCTOR'S DILEMMA.
Fairchild became a frequent visitor at our house, and an ever-welcome one. His good looks, his good sense, his droll humour, his honesty, his high spirits, made him an extremely pleasant companion. We all liked him cordially; we were always glad to see him. I told him that if pot-luck had no terrors for him, he must feel at liberty to drop in and dine with us whenever his inclination prompted and his leisure would permit. He took me at my word, as I meant he should; and from that time forth he broke bread with us never seldomer than one evening out of the seven.
At the end of a month, or perhaps six weeks, Josephine said to me, “Do you think it well, Leonard, that two young people of opposite sexes should be thrown together as frequently and as closely as Mr. Fairchild and Miriam are?”
“Why not?” questioned I.
“The reasons are obvious. How would you be pleased if they should fall in love?”
“The Lord forbid! But I see no danger of their doing so.”
“There is always danger when a beautiful young girl and a spirited young man see too much of each other.”