"Since my going will be a relief to my friends, I consent to retreat," said the besieged doctor, smiling down at the two ladies.
They had driven thither in a dashing little pony phæton, owned by Miss Manvers; and as they moved toward it the heiress said:
"Doctor, you must drive Miss Barnard home; I intend to walk, and enjoy the society of Mr. Harris."
Dr. Bethel and the blonde lady entered the little carriage, and, after a few words addressed to Harris and Miss Manvers, drove away.
The heiress looked about the grounds for a moment, addressed a few gracious words to Harris, the elder, smiled at Jim Long, and then moved away, escorted by the delighted younger Harris.
"Wimmen air—wimmen," said Jim Long, sententiously, leaning upon the rifle, which he still retained, and looking up the road after the receding plumes of Miss Manvers' Gainsborough hat. "You can't never tell where they're goin' ter appear next. It makes a feller feel sort a ornary, though, ter have a couple o' gals sail in an' do more business with a few slick words an' searchin' looks, then he could do with a first-class rifle ter back him. Makes him feel as tho' his inflouence was weakening."
"Jim," I said, ignoring his whimsical complaint, "who was the fair haired lady?"
"Doctor Barnard's only darter, Miss Louise."
"I never saw her before."