"No offence, I hope. I knew you were here for your health, and I couldn't see—— You'll forgive me, my dear fellow, but I've dabbled a little in medicine too."
Stamford had not prepared for enquiry into his symptoms.
"I'm just generally run down—overworked, I suppose, trying to stiffen the legs of a dying newspaper."
"You were lucky to have such old friends as the Aikens to see you through."
"But they're not old friends—very new, in fact. I happened to meet Mrs. Aikens one day at a railway station; she invited me out."
"Ah, Mr. Stamford! Those railway stations!" The Professor's big finger was wagging in his face. "Must I remind you that Mrs. Aikens is married? Oh, you bachelors!"
Stamford jumped. "Great Scott, man! What in thunder has that to do with it?"
The Professor coughed apologetically.
"I thought—well, anyone can see that Mr. Aikens is none too—too eager, shall we say, for visitors. I'm sure it can't be for fear of his wife. She seems much more—more thoughtful of him than he of her—if one may be permitted to discuss his host and hostess. I'm sure I'd rather pay—or live in a tent, and be independent. Dakota, too—though he's a countryman of mine, doesn't seem overjoyed at our presence. May I ask if you received the same impression?"
Stamford chuckled. "You were lucky. I had to face Dakota alone. I'm sure my hair went a shade lighter from the first impressions I received."