Doctor St. Clair’s office door opened and he intercepted her, saying in a low, imperative tone:
“I have been waiting for you. Come in; I must speak to you a moment. You need not hesitate. There is no harm coming in my office. Many of the young ladies come in here to make their reports.”
“I am very sleepy. Will you please wait till to-morrow?” she faltered shrinkingly.
“I cannot wait. Come,” he said so sternly that Eva followed him like a frightened child over the threshold.
“Sit down,” pushing forward an easy-chair.
“I—I don’t want to sit down, please,” she answered, just leaning for support against the back of the chair, and continuing nervously:
“If you are going to discharge me, please say so at once, doctor, without scolding me, and let me go.”
“Why should I scold you?” smiling.
“For shirking my duty—dancing with the patients. But I really forgot all about it. I was talking, and—time slipped away so fast.”
“You must have found Doctor Rupert very entertaining to remain out with him until so unseemly an hour,” grimly.