t. "The more money they have
the bigger fools they are. Always insisting that you tell them more
than you know yourself, never willing to wait for a disease to declare
itself."

With a kind of contemptuous snort he lumbered back into the
consulting-room and closed the door. Had he been offering an
explanation in case she had overheard? Or merely expressing aloud a
general opinion regarding patients, all of whom he evidently held in
scorn? For the life of her she could not decide.

CHAPTER VII

Several days slipped by, during which she heard nothing further of the
Cliffords. Nor indeed did she think about them very much, there being
more vital matters to occupy her attention. Esther was but mortal.
There was a particular chestnut-coloured crepe-de-Chine jumper in a
shop-window along the Croisette that drew her like a magnet--her
colour, and what a background for her golden amber beads, brought her
recently by a patient from Peking. Should she give way to the
extravagance, or ought she to save her money? The problem was a
weighty one. Besides this, there was a young Italian, merry and
good-mannered, whom she had met at her hotel, and who was beseeching
her to come out one evening and dance. What ought she to say to him?
Her soul longed for gaiety--Italians were good dancers, as a rule.
There was, moreover, a letter from New York from the devoted doctor who
wanted to marry her, a long letter, fraught with complete understanding
and fidelity which left her cold, but gave her something to think
about. On the whole she had quite enough to occupy her idle thoughts.

Yet now and again she recalled the sudden liking she had felt for Miss
Clifford, and at these moments she wondered what was happening to the
old cotton manufacturer up there in La Californie. She knew the doctor
called twice daily. She decided to question him.

"Doctor, what happened to Sir Charles Clifford?"

"Happened?"

The doctor frowned into a test-tube and waited for her to explain.

"I mean, if he is ill, what has he got?"

"Oh, typhoid fever," replied the doctor indifferently, intent on his
experiment.

"So it was typhoid after all!" Esther exclaimed, conscious of a certain
regret.

He lowered the tube and slowly levelled his small dull eyes upon her.
Without knowing in the least why, she felt uncomfortable.

"Why do you say 'after all'?"

"I merely meant that his sister told me she was afraid it might be
that. One of