I turned back for a last look and a last word. No chance of learning her secret now. The picture was as perfect as when I had had the first glimpse of it, only her face had grown, if possible, more charming after my renewed scrutiny of it.
There are faces that grow upon you the longer and the oftener you look upon them; faces that seem to have a veil over them, which melts away like the thin, fine mist of the morning upon the cliffs, until they flash out in their full color and beauty. The last glance was eminently satisfactory, and so was the last word.
"Shall I send you the hair?" asked Miss Ollivier, returning practically to a matter of business.
"To be sure," I answered. "I shall dispose of it to advantage, but I have not time to wait for it now."
"And may I write a letter to you?"
"Yes," was my reply: I was too pleased to express myself more eloquently.
"Good-by," she said; "you are a very good doctor to me."
"And friend?" I added.
"And friend," she repeated.
That was the last word, for I was compelled to hurry away. Tardif accompanied me to the cliff, and I took the opportunity to tell him as pleasantly as I could the extravagant charge his mother had made upon her lodger, and the girl's anxiety about the future. A more grieved look never came across a man's face.