hould make you
associate him with my being bothered I don't know."

"You said that you were going to see him, and somehow, I don't know why,
I have been rather worrying over it. Was the interview satisfactory, did
you learn what you wanted?"

"Not altogether," he said, "but it is all a matter of conjecture, Mary,
and I own that it has worried me a bit, and, indeed, I am sorry I went
to him at all. However, as it is business and ladies are not good at
business, suppose we talk of something else."

Mary made no reply, but sat looking at him while she twisted her fingers
nervously before her. "May I ask one question, Cuthbert?"

"Yes, if you like, but I don't promise to answer it?"

"Do you think that there is any blame attached to my father?"

Cuthbert was startled. He had certainly not expected this question.

"What on earth should put that idea into your head, Mary?"

"I don't know," she replied, "but it has always struck me as so strange
that he should not have prevented Mr. Hartington from buying those
shares. I don't know much of business, but I have thought a great deal
about it, and it has always seemed a strange affair to me, and I have
worried a great deal over it since he bought the house. That is one
reason why I hate going there."

"Perhaps your father was not quite so prudent in the matter as he might
have been, Mary," Cuthbert said, trying to speak lightly, though he
found it difficult to do so with the girl's earnest eyes fixed on him,
"but even of that I am not sure. Now, suppose we change the subject
again--it seems that we are to hit on difficult subjects this morning.
The gates will probably be opened, at any rate to the foreigners, in a
day or two. Are you thinking of going home to prepare yourself for
taking up your vocation as a nurse?"

"Not yet," she replied, "there is no hurry for that, and it will be some
time before the country is settled."

"You are sure that you have not changed your mind again?"

"No, why should I?"

"I thought perhaps you might have done so, and might possibly be
inclined towards the vocation you so scornfully repudiated when I
suggested it before. I intended to ask you yesterday, but it would not
have been fair when you were so weak and shaken."

The girl had glanced at him and had then flushed hotly.

"I don't know--I am not sure--what you mean."

"And I am sure that you know very well, Mary, that I mean the vocation
of taking care of me, which you repud