The old Doctor came up to her by and by.
“Well, Elsie, I am quite surprised to find you here. Do tell me how you happened to do such a good-natured thing as to let us see you at such a great party.”
“It's been dull at the mansion-house,” she said, “and I wanted to get out of it. It's too lonely there,—there's nobody to hate since Dick's gone.”
The Doctor laughed good-naturedly, as if this were an amusing bit of pleasantry,—but he lifted his head and dropped his eyes a little, so as to see her through his spectacles. She narrowed her lids slightly, as one often sees a sleepy cat narrow hers,—somewhat as you may remember our famous Margaret used to, if you remember her at all,—so that her eyes looked very small, but bright as the diamonds on her breast. The old Doctor felt very oddly as she looked at him; he did not like the feeling, so he dropped his head and lifted his eyes and looked at her over his spectacles again.
“And how have you all been at the mansion house?” said the Doctor.
“Oh, well enough. But Dick's gone, and there's nobody left but Dudley and I and the people. I'm tired of it. What kills anybody quickest, Doctor?” Then, in a whisper, “I ran away again the other day, you know.”
“Where did you go?” The Doctor spoke in a low, serious tone.
“Oh, to the old place. Here, I brought this for you.”
The Doctor started as she handed him a flower of the Atragene Americana, for he knew that there was only one spot where it grew, and that not one where any rash foot, least of all a thin-shod woman's foot, should venture.
“How long were you gone?” said the Doctor.