"Thank you. You are a good girl; and if you can say my old friend, Dexter Howard, would approve this new arrangement, I must give my consent. I wish you weren't going out of the city, though. What will all your poor people do? By the way, I'm forgetting in my astonishment at the news what I came for. Did you know Mr. Lambert was sick, confined to his room?"
"I'm very sorry to hear it."
"That isn't the worst of it. He charges you with being the cause."
"Charges me? What have I done? I have not even seen him for weeks, and supposed him out of the city."
"He has been in bed. He is hollow-eyed and nervous to a degree—that is not particularly agreeable to his household, I imagine. I can't make out whether the man is out of his mind, or what is the matter with him. When he had berated you as much as I thought prudent, I apologized in your name; was sure you had no intention, and so forth; but he only grumbled the worse. He was sure you did mean it; and if you saw him you would do it again. I couldn't make out what you had done, except that he said you had hurt his feelings."
"Oh, I know now!" exclaimed Marion, with a breath of relief. "I'm so glad, so very glad!"
"Glad? He said you would be, but I indignantly denied it."
"May I go and see him, Doctor? Please let me."
"I don't believe he would admit you."
"Yes, he would. I must go, dear Doctor. So you may as well say yes."