I think, if my mind had been less anxiously excited on the subject of his visit, or if I had not disliked him so much, I should not have found courage to accost him as I did. There was something sly, I thought, in his dark, lean face; and he looked so low, so like a Scotch artisan in his Sunday clothes, that I felt a sudden pang of indignation, at the thought that a great gentleman, like my father, should have suffered under his influence, and I stopped suddenly, instead of passing him by with a mere salutation, as he expected, 'May I ask a question, Doctor Bryerly?'
'Certainly'
'Are you the friend whom my father expects?'
'I don't quite see.'
'The friend, I mean, with whom he is to make an expedition to some distance, I think, and for some little time?'
'No,' said the Doctor, with a shake of his head.
'And who is he?'
'I really have not a notion, Miss.'
'Why, he said that you knew,' I replied.
The Doctor looked honestly puzzled.