"And every time I've seen you since!" he said exultingly. "And now that I've got you alone for a minute--you pretend----" "I'm not pretending!" The shoulders shrugged a little. "And turn your back on me," he added quietly. "It's very thoughtless!" she said, speaking to the window. "You make it awkward for me.... I hoped you would have sense enough--not to say anything!" "I haven't any sense," said the young man. "And you have so much.... That's why I like you. I fell in love with your sense--the first day!" She had turned and faced him now. "Of course you don't care!" she said indignantly. "It is just a joke to you--to come, interfering with my work----" "I didn't mean to stop you!" He glanced helplessly at the linen-cupboard. "I mean my nursing!" she said with dignity. "I can't take care of your father if you're looking at me--and saying foolish things--all the time!" He reached out a hand. "I'm not saying foolish things," he said quietly. "And you know it----" A little bell buzzed somewhere and she lifted her head. "He's ringing--" she said quickly. "It's his bell! I'll have to go!" Then she waited. And he took her hands and looked down at them, and bent and kissed them gently, and watched the little color come dancing into her face. "Pretending you didn't care!" he said. He crushed the two hands hard and she cried out and drew them away--and lifted them to her face and began to cry into them--little hard sobs that shook her. And he held her close and patted the troubled shoulder. "There, there!" he said. His voice was very young and happy and surprised. And she looked up and smiled--a queer little reddened smile--under her crooked cap. The bell tinkled--and rang a long shrill burr. "I shall have to go! I know I look like a fright!" She reached to the cap. "You look dear!" said the young man exultantly. But she was gone and he was speaking only to the white wainscoted panels of the linen-room and to the sunlight flooding in. XXXI Herman Medfield glanced at her sharply as she came in. "I've been ringing some time," he said dryly. "I was in the linen-room. I'm sorry. I came as soon as I could." He looked at her face. "What is the matter?" he asked. "Nothing." She shook her head. "You look as if you had been crying," he said, studying her. "I haven't anything to cry about. I am very happy!" She returned his gaze serenely, with a little fluttering look that came and went underneath. "You look happy," he admitted. "But I could swear you'd been crying." "It doesn't matter how I look, does it?" She straightened the clothes a little and shook out his pillows. "Can I get you something, sir? I'm sorry you had to wait." "It doesn't matter. But I woke up, and thought of Julian--I was afraid he would go away.... I told you to have him wait, you know; and it's after three--he ought to be here by this time." His tone was petulant. "I'll see if he is here," she replied.