And Mme. Popea, seeing that Katherine was not to be surprised into any admission, lingered a moment idly, and then took her departure. Katherine, who read through Mme. Popea, smiled to herself somewhat sadly. But her visitor's announcement regarding the old professor gave her subject for reflection. If his father grew worse, Raine would have to return at once. For a moment she half wished he would delay his coming. Her heart throbbed painfully in anticipation of what lay before her.
The announcement was true. The old man had taken a severe chill. The doctor had just spoken rather alarmingly to Felicia. She determined that Raine should be summoned.
“You must let me send a telegram to Chamonix,” she said, standing by the bedside, while the old man drank his tisane. “It would cheer you to see him, wouldn't it?”
The old man shook his head.
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“It would be such a pity. He is enjoying himself.”
“I should think he would not be sorry to come back,” said Felicia.
An unwonted sub-acidity in her tone surprised him. He paused, with the cup at his lips, his eyes luminous. Her glance fell beneath his, and she coloured.
“I don't think he went away to enjoy himself,” she said, giving expression to vague conjectures that had been taking shape in her mind the last few days. “Besides, his friends have left him in the lurch—not their fault—unhappily—but still he is alone. He would be glad to come back if you sent for him.”