'Oh!'said Dane. 'I will carry you away before it gets to be so bad as that. This is an old fellow-student of mine, Hazel; an odd, clever, careless, unselfish fellow, who has never got along in the world. He took to art, came to America, on account of some family troubles at home; and here he was a good deal petted in society. Now he is ill, and alone, and I fear very poor. He is at a boarding house, where I suspect he cannot pay his bills; quite alone. He had not a friend. Nor, I am afraid, a sou.'
'And you are going off to take care of him?' said Hazel, facing round with sudden interest.
'Off, where?'
'Why, wherever he is. To his hotel, or his room.'
'I have just come from him. He is not suffering from acute illness now; but he is pining away, I think, for want of good food and fresh air, and home. You see, we were comrades together in Göttingen; and he comes from over there. He was very glad to see me.'
'Art?' said Hazel. 'Is he a painter?'
'He was a painter.'
'Do send him off to paint Dr. Maryland's portrait! There is nothing
Prim wants so much; Consign him to Mrs. Bywank.'
Rollo's eye brightened and warmed; but he went on. 'He may never paint again, Hazel. If we receive him, it may be that it will only be to see him fade away in the midst of us.'
'Well What then?' she added softly after a minute.