“The tendency was there, we will allow; but you should never have allowed the _habit_ of this sort of feeling to be set up. You should have been on the watch for the outward signs--the same then as now, some degree of pallor, with general limpness of attitude, and more or less dropping of the lips and eyes. The moment one such sign appeared, you should have been at hand to seize the child out of the cloud she was entering, and to let her bask for an hour or two in love and light, forcing her to meet you eye to eye, to find only love and joy in yours. Every sullen attack averted is so much against setting up the habit; and habit, as you know, is a chief factor in character.” “And can we do nothing for her now?” “Certainly you can. Ignore the sullen humours, let gay life go on as if she was not there, only drawing her into it now and then by an appeal for her opinion, or for her laugh at a joke. Above all, when good manners compel her to look up, let her meet unclouded eyes, full of pleasure in her; for, believe, whatever cause of offence she gives to you, she is far more deeply offensive to herself. And you should do this all the more because, poor girl, the brunt of the battle will fall upon her.” “I see you are right; all along, her sullenness has given way before her father’s delight in her, and indeed it is in this way that my husband has so far cured me. I suppose you would say he had broken the habit. But won’t you see her and talk to her? I know you can help her most.” “Well, to tell you the truth, I was going to ask you if I might; her sensitive nature must be gently handled; and, just because she has no such love for me as for her parents, I run less risk of wounding her. Besides, I have a secret to tell which should help her in the management of herself.” “Thank you, Evans; we are more grateful than I can say. Will you strike while the iron’s hot? Shall we go away and send her to you, letting her suppose it is a mere medical call?” PART V “Good-morning, Miss Dorothy; do you know I think it’s quite time this state of things should come to an end. We are both tired of the humbug of treating you for want of health when you are quite strong and well.” Dorothy looked up with flushed face (I had it all later from both Dr. Evans and Dorothy herself), and eyes half relieved, half doubtful, but not resentful, and stood quietly waiting. “All the same, I think you are in a bad way, and are in great need of help. Will you bear with me while I tell you what is the matter, and how you may be cured?” Dorothy was past speaking, and gave a silent assent.