It was Vera’s turn to redden; she had completely forgotten her patient in her astonishment at Alan Noyes’ unexpected appearance. “Mrs. Hall has just informed Mrs. Porter that Craig appears to be worse, and she has sent for Dr. Beverly Thorne.”
“Indeed? I wonder—” He did not complete his sentence, but fell into moody silence which Vera forbore to break. Mrs. Hall was with Craig Porter; she was not needed in the sick room for nearly three hours, and, except for dinner, her time until eight o’clock was her own. The alteration in Alan Noyes puzzled her; his pleasant reserved manner had given place to brusque inquisitiveness but indifferently masked. What had brought about the change? Speculating was idle work, and she was about to address him when he spoke.
“I have not inquired for Miss Porter; is she well?”
Vera failed to observe in the dim light the effort the question cost Noyes, but she was quick to note the formality of his query. Four days before he would have said “Millicent.” A lovers’ quarrel would explain his peculiar behavior and altered demeanor; but he and Millicent had been good friends, nothing more. Vera frowned in perplexity, and her reply was tinged with stiffness.
“Miss Porter appears quite well.”
Noyes peered at her in the gloom in uncertainty. “Appears well,” he muttered under his breath. “Has she—”
He was interrupted by the pulling back of the portières of the hall doorway, and Millicent Porter walked in, her light footfall being deadened by the heavy rugs. An exclamation, quickly stifled, escaped Noyes, and he pulled his officer’s cape more closely about him, then turned and faced her.
“Why are you staying here in the dark, Vera?” she inquired. “Oh, I beg pardon,” perceiving for the first time that Vera was not alone; then as her eyes grew accustomed to the dim light she recognized Alan Noyes. A wave of emotion, instantly suppressed, shook her, and, laying one trembling hand on the nearest chair back, she waited in silence; a silence spent by Vera in glancing from one to the other, her perplexity deepening; what had arisen to estrange the surgeon and Millicent? And if they had quarreled, why had he returned to be a guest in her mother’s house? Vera’s expression betrayed her doubts, and Noyes, who had edged imperceptibly nearer, perceived her hesitancy.
“Good afternoon, Miss Porter,” he said, and the effort to repress all emotion made his voice devoid of feeling.
“Good evening,” responded Millicent with equal coolness. “It is Dr. Noyes, is it not?”