"One thing more," he said. "Was there, do you know, any history of insanity in your aunt's family?"
The girl paled. The idea was a disturbing one.
"Why—no—I think not. I never heard. You see, she is not my Aunt, really, but my step-mother's aunt. There was a brother, I think, who died in—in an institution. He was not quite responsible, but in his case it was drink. That is different, isn't it? Does it make any difference?"
"No—only it may help me to understand the case. Good-afternoon."
He watched her go, through a peep-hole made by Bubble in the blind.
"Pretty, isn't she?" said a reflective voice below him.
The doctor started. But it was only Mrs. Sykes who had stepped around the house corner to pluck some flowers from the bed beneath the window. As he did not answer, the voice continued, "That boy Burk has gone fishing. I told you you'd regret putting that new suit on to him, brass buttons and all! Not that I want to say anything against the lad and his mother a widow, but when a person's dealing with a limb of mischief a person ought to know what to expect. Anybody sick over at Esther's house?"
The doctor, leaning against the door in deep reverie, did not seem to hear. Mrs. Sykes, after a suspicious glance, decided that perhaps he really had not heard, and proceeded.
"Not that I'm asking out of curiosity, Land sakes! But I've got some black currant jelly that sick folks fancy. I could spare a jar as well as not."
A pause.