‘There is certainly a good deal in that. Good morning. I will not detain you.’
He raised his hat, and was moving on; indeed, he had walked a pace or two, when Ada’s voice, just behind him, caused him to turn again. She looked embarrassed, and half stammered, as she said—
‘Oh, please—do you know—have you any idea when Miss Askam is coming home?’
‘I have not,’ said he, gravely, and very much surprised. ‘At least, I know nothing of the exact day; but before Whitsuntide, Mrs. Johnson says. She would know, I daresay, if you like to call and ask her.’
‘Oh, thank you! I’ll see. It’s—it’s not of so much importance,’ said Ada. ‘Good morning, Dr. Langstroth.’
They parted. Michael went on his way, and as he went he shook his head.
‘It is not of the least use for her to tell me that she is perfectly well. She is very ill indeed, and something ought to be done for her.’
Many times during the day he thought of Ada, and of her changed looks, and wondered how Mrs. Dixon would take it if he spoke to her about her daughter.
About seven o’clock, just as he was sitting down to his solitary dinner, his dining-room door was opened, and Roger Camm walked in.
Michael uttered an ‘ah!’ of pleasure and relief when he saw the mighty figure lounge into the room.