"What's come to me?" thought Oldroyd; the only idea beside being that he ought to ask Lucy about her health, only he could not, for it would seem so professional. So he looked helplessly at her, and she returned his look half indignantly, while the candle was held on one side, and Eliza gaped at them wonderingly. Mrs Alleyne ended the awkward pause by opening the dining-room door, and standing there framed like a silhouette. "Oh, is it you, Mr Oldroyd?" she said, quietly. "Yes, good evening," exclaimed the young doctor, quickly, like one released from a spell; "as I told Miss Alleyne here, I was coming close by, and I thought I would call and see how Mr Alleyne is." "We are very glad to see you," said Mrs Alleyne, with grave courtesy. "Pray come in, Mr Oldroyd," and Lucy uttered a low sigh of satisfaction. "Of course this is not a professional visit, Mrs Alleyne," said Oldroyd; and then he wished he had not said it, for Mrs Alleyne's face showed the lines a little more deeply, and there was a slight twitching about her lips. "I am sorry that Mr Alleyne has not yet returned," she said, and as soon as they were seated, she smiled, and tried to remove the restraint that had fallen upon them in the dreary room. "I am very grateful to you, Mr Oldroyd," she said; "my son is wonderfully better." "And would be in a position to laugh all doctors in the face, if he would carry out my prescriptions a little more fully," said Oldroyd. "But we must not be too hard upon him. I think it is a great thing to wean him from his studies as we have." "You dreadfully conceited man," thought Lucy. "How dare you have the shamelessness to think you have done all this! I know better. No man could have done it--there." "Did you speak, Miss Alleyne?" said Oldroyd, looking round suddenly, and finding Lucy's eyes intent upon him. "I? No," cried Lucy, flushing; and then biting her lips with annoyance, because her cheeks burned, "I was listening to you and mamma." "It is quite time Moray returned," said Mrs Alleyne, anxiously glancing towards the closed window. "Yes, mamma; we shall hear his step directly," said Lucy. "He does not generally stay so long," continued Mrs Alleyne, going to the window to draw aside the curtain and look out. "Did he say which way he would go, Lucy?" "Yes, mamma. I asked him, and he said as far as the fir wood." "Ah, yes," responded Mrs Alleyne; "he says he can think so much more easily among the great trees--that his mind seems able to plunge into the depths of the vast abysses of the heavens." "I don't believe he does think about stars at all," thought Lucy. "I believe he goes there to stare across the park, and think about Glynne."