“And to do this, to learn this new trade of yours, you hesitate no more about robbing me of my mind and dissecting it than a country medical student would hesitate to rob a grave.”
“Not any more certainly,” he replied, evidently still much amused at her indignation, “but as I have perceived nothing but a well-deserved rebuke, perhaps you will forgive me. I am on duty to-day, as you see; after many years of careful study I am considered worthy of a very sacred trust. I am granted the privilege of playing nurse to a child and a dog.”
He pointed along the beach to where his granddaughter was playing with her absurd little poodle, and as his eyes rested upon them his smile lost its queer, impersonal look and became very commonplace indeed, just the smile of a good man, whose heart goes out in thankfulness to God for the joy of seeing a little child of his own blood safe and well.
“You are,” said Lola gravely, “the very queerest person I have ever met. If you are anxious to study mental phenomena you might buy yourself a looking-glass. I must confess that I can’t understand you at all.”
“Since we seem to have met upon a rather unusual attitude of frankness,” he responded mildly, “I am going to return the compliment. Our impressions seem to have been identical.” He turned as if to leave, but after a slight hesitation he faced her, and said in a more serious tone, “My offer of assistance was sincere; should you be in need of anything that is in my power to grant you, surely my age should make it easy for you to come to me.” He bowed rather stiffly, like a man to whom social conventions are a habit rather than a pleasure, and left her there, sitting on the sand, looking after him a little anxiously. “He was a queer old man,” she thought; “there could be no doubt of that,” and she wondered just what he had meant when he confessed that he could not understand her. She watched him as he joined the child, and until they and the little dog disappeared together around a rocky point she sat there, thinking of the strange look of speculation she had seen on his face.
“Miss Barnhelm!” She looked up quickly at the sound of the voice and saw the young life-guard standing beside her.
“Why did you follow me?” she demanded angrily. “I might have known I couldn’t trust you.”
“I saw that you were alone,” he stammered, very much upset by her tone. “I—I had to see you.”
“Why?”
“Why!” He looked at her amazed. “Why? Do you think a man can forget—just in a few hours—forget you? I never knew that there were women like you in the world. I—I wouldn’t have dared to raise my eyes to you—but—but you came to me—yourself!”