"At first?"
"When I first saw him. I have met him several times."
Mrs. Coombe was evidently not sufficiently interested to pursue the subject. "Whoever he is," she said fretfully, "I hope he is not going to allow Amy to fancy herself an invalid."
"He is going to cure the fancy."
"Oh!" dubiously. "Well, I hope he does! I find I must run over to
Detroit for a few days."
"What?"
"It would be provoking to have her ill while I'm away. No one else can manage Jane properly while you're at school. Where is Jane?"
"I don't know. You are not speaking seriously, are you?"
"I certainly am. At a pinch I suppose I could take Jane with me. She needs new clothes. But I'd rather not bother with her. Her measure will do quite as well. I wish you would call her. I've got some butterscotch somewhere. Here it is." The restless hands fumbled in the hand-bag. "No, it isn't here, how odd! I promised Jane—"
"Mother, when did you decide to go away?"