This was admirable, so far; but, reading it over, Lexy was not satisfied. She remembered the misery, the trouble and anxiety, in Mr. Houseman’s blue eyes. She imagined him sailing the seas, bitterly hurt because he thought Caroline had changed her mind. She thought of him coming back and getting this letter, to revive .all his alarm for Caroline. This wasn’t, after all, a business letter. She took up her pen again, and added: I think I can imagine how you feel about all this, and I am more sorry than I can tell you. I hope we shall meet soon. This last phrase rather astonished her. She hadn’t meant to write just that. She picked up the letter, intending to tear it up and write another; but she thought better of it. “No!” she said to herself. “Let it stay. It’s true; why shouldn’t I hope that we’ll meet again?” So she addressed the letter and sealed it, and then sat looking out of the window at the rain. It was a hopeless sort of rain, faint and fine—a hopeless, melancholy world, without color or promise. “I’d better take a walk!” thought Lexy, springing up. Before she reached the door there was a knock, and Mrs. Royce put her head in. “He’s here!” she whispered. “He’s asking for you.” “Who?” cried Lexy. “Hush! The doctor!” answered Mrs. Royce. “You could ’a’ knocked me down with a feather!” XI Feathers would not have knocked down the sturdy Lexy, however. On the contrary, she was pleased and interested by this utterly unexpected visit. The sinister doctor here, in this house, and asking for her! She started promptly toward the stairs. “Miss Moran!” cautioned the landlady, in a whisper. “Don’t tell him nothing!” “Tell him!” said Lexy. “But I haven’t anything to tell!” “Well, you’d best be very careful!” said Mrs. Royce. With this solemn warning in her ears, Lexy descended the stairs. She saw Dr. Quelton standing in the hall, hat in hand, waiting for her. The doctor was rather a disappointment. He was not the dark, sinister figure he should have been. He was a big man, powerfully built, with a clumsy stoop to his tremendous shoulders. His heavy, clean-shaven face would have been an agreeable one if it had not been for its expression, but that expression was not at all an alarming or dangerous one. It was an expression of the most utter and hopeless boredom. He came toward her. “Miss Moran?” he asked. Even his voice was listless, and his glance was without a spark of interest. “Yes,” said she. “My brother-in-law, Captain Grey, told us you were here, and I did myself the honor of calling,” he went on. “You certainly were quick about it!” thought Lexy. “Captain Grey couldn’t have reached his sister’s house an hour ago, and it’s three miles from here. Won’t you come into the sitting room?” she asked aloud. “Thank you,” he replied, and followed Lexy into the decorous and dismal room.