"If that is being good," said Keith, "my salvation is assured." He wanted to say, as he looked at her, "In all the multitude in New York there is but one person that I really came to see, and I am repaid," but he did not venture so far. In place of it he made a mental calculation of the chances of Mrs. Yorke leaving, if only for a moment. A glance at her, however, satisfied him that the chance of it was not worth considering, and gloom began to settle on him. If there is anything that turns a young man's heart to lead and encases it in ice, it is, when he has travelled leagues to see a girl, to have mamma plant herself in the room and mount guard. Keith knew now that Mrs. Yorke had mounted guard, and that no power but Providence would dislodge her. The thought of the cool woods of the Ridge came to him like a mirage, torturing him.
He turned to the girl boldly.
"Sha'n't you ever come South again?" he asked. "The humming-birds are waiting."
Alice smiled, and her blush made her charming.
Mrs. Yorke answered for her. She did not think the South agreed with Alice.
Alice protested that she loved it.
"How is my dear old Doctor? Do you know, he and I have carried on quite a correspondence this year?"
Keith did not know. For the first time in his life he envied the Doctor.
"He is your--one of your most devoted admirers. The last time I saw him he was talking of you."
"What did he say of me? Do tell me!" with exaggerated eagerness.