"No." He changed the subject, and went on to say that the other physicians had arranged to meet him at the house. Then he gave him a little history of the case.
"You are very much interested in her?"
"I have known her a long time, you see. Yes. Her aunt is a friend of mine."
"He is in love with her," said the old man to himself. "She has cut the widow out."
As they entered the hall, Miss Abby came out of a room. She looked worn and ill.
"Ah!" said Keith. "Here she is." He turned to present the Doctor, but stopped with his lips half opened. The two stood fronting each, other, their amazed eyes on each other's faces, as it were across the space of a whole generation.
"Theophilus!"
"Abby!"
This was all. The next moment they were shaking hands as if they had parted the week before instead of thirty-odd years ago. "I told you I would come if you ever needed me," said the Doctor. "I have come."
"And I never needed you more, and I have needed you often. It was good in you to come--for my little girl." Her voice suddenly broke, and she turned away, her handkerchief at her eyes.