She paused, evidently expecting him to make some explanation; but he was silent, and looked so distressed that she smiled.
“You may remember,” she continued, “that a young lady at the lakes sent for you to treat her for bruises sustained in a fall, and that you told her messenger to give her your compliments and say that cold-water applications, an old woman, and God would do as well with such a case as you. I am that young lady.”
Wilder liked the young woman’s blunt and forthright manner, although it was novel and embarrassing.
“There were doubtless important cases demanding attention,” he explained.
“No doubt,” she agreed.
“And, after all,” he suggested, “didn’t you follow the advice and get good results?”
“Yes,” she answered, again smiling faintly; “that is true.” She closed her eyes. Presently she extended her hand, which Wilder took. She looked earnestly into his face, and asked, “It will be a long siege with me, will it not?”
“Much depends upon your temperament,” he answered. “If———”
“That is evasion,” she interrupted. “Be candid with me.” There was no demand in this request; it was an appeal from such depths of her as she knew, and it touched him.
“Yes,” he stammered, “unless———”