“The doctor's going away, miss,” she announced, flinging her bombshell without preliminary.
“Going away?” Sara's surprise was entirely gratifying, and Jane continued volubly—
“Yes, miss. A telegram came for him early in the afternoon, while he was out on his rounds, asking him to go to a friend who is lying at death's door, as you may say. And please, miss, Dr. Selwyn said he would be glad to see you as soon as you came in.”
“Very well, I'll go to him at once. Where is Miss Molly? Has she come back yet?”
“Come and gone again, miss. The doctor asked her to send off a wire for him.”
“I see.” Sara nodded somewhat abstractly. She was still wondering confusedly why Molly had failed to put in any appearance at Greenacres. “What time did she come in?”
“About a quarter of an hour ago, miss. She missed the early train back from Oldhampton.”
Sara's instant feeling of relief was tempered by a mild element of self-reproach. She had been agitating herself about nothing—allowing her uneasiness about Molly to become a perfect obsession, leading her into the wildest imaginings. Here had she been disquieting herself the entire afternoon because Molly had not turned up as arranged, and after all, the simple, commonplace explanation of the matter was that she had missed her train!
Smiling over the groundlessness of her fears, Sara hastened away to Selwyn's study, and found him, seated at his desk, scribbling some hurried motes concerning various cases among his patients for the enlightenment of the medical man who was taking charge of the practice during his absence.
“Oh, there you are, Sara!” he exclaimed, laying down his pen as she entered. “I'm glad you have come back before I go. I'm off in half-an-hour. Did Jane tell you?”