her
alarms--the glimmer of a vision that if she should go, as it were, too
far, she might perhaps deprive their relation of facility if not of
value. Going too far was failing to try at least to remain simple. He
would be quite ready to hate her if she did, by heading him off at
every point, embarrass his exercise of a kindness that, no doubt,
rather constituted for him a high method. Susie wouldn't hate her,
since Susie positively wanted to suffer for her; Susie had a noble idea
that she might somehow so do her good. Such, however, was not the way
in which the greatest of London doctors was to be expected to wish to
do it. He wouldn't have time even should he wish; whereby, in a word,
Milly felt herself intimately warned. Face to face there with her
smooth strong director, she enjoyed at a given moment quite such
another lift of feeling as she had known in her crucial talk with
Susie. It came round to the same thing; him too she would help to help
her if that could possibly be; but if it couldn't possibly be she would
assist also to make this right.

It wouldn't have taken many minutes more, on the basis in question,
almost to reverse for her their characters of patient and physician.
What _was_ he in fact but patient, what was she but physician, from the
moment she embraced once for all the necessity, adopted once for all
the policy, of saving him alarms about her subtlety? She would leave
the subtlety to him: he would enjoy his use of it, and she herself, no
doubt, would in time enjoy his enjoyment. She went so far as to imagine
that the inward success of these reflexions flushed her for the minute,
to his eyes, with a certain bloom, a comparative appearance of health;
and what verily next occurred was that he gave colour to the
presumption. "Every little helps, no doubt!"--he noticed
good-humouredly her harmless sally. "But, help or no help, you're
looking, you know, remarkably well."

"Oh I thought I was," she answered; and it was as if already she saw
his line. Only she wondered what he would have guessed. If he had
guessed anything at all it would be rather remarkable of him. As for
what there _was_ to guess, he couldn't--if this was present to
him--have arrived at it save by his own acuteness. That acuteness was
therefore immense; and if it supplied the subtlety she thought of
leaving him to, his portion would be none so bad. Neither, for that
matter, would hers be--which she was even actually enjoying. She
w