: "Does she look all right to you,
George--sure?"

"Of course she does, Jimps. You never saw her before with her hair down
in braids; and any face looks pale against a white bed."

He shook his head. "I shall not stir out of this town till she looks
like herself to me."

"Of course you won't. I wish I needn't, but I must go back to father
to-night."

They all tried to dissuade her from this course, but she was firm. She
knew well enough that all Jeannette had wanted of her was to assure
herself that she possessed a clear right and title to Stuart's love.
Evidently Jeannette had guessed more at Stuart's past relations with
Georgiana than either of them had imagined, and she would not allow
herself to be happy without the knowledge that she was not making her
cousin miserable.

One brief conversation with Doctor Craig was all that was vouchsafed
Georgiana before she left the city, and that took place in the presence
of others, in Aunt Olivia's apartment. It was clear enough how busy a
man he was in this his own world, for when he came into the room he
explained to Mrs. Crofton that it had been his only chance since they
arrived to make a brief social call upon the family of his patient. It
was but an hour before Georgiana's departure, and when he learned this,
Jefferson Craig came over to her, where she sat upon a divan at one end
of the long private drawing-room of the suite. Seeing this, the others
of the party began conversations of their own, after the manner of the
highly intelligent, and for those five minutes Georgiana lived in a
place apart from the rest of the world.

"Please tell me all about your father," he began, and the tones of his
voice, low as are habitually those of his profession, could hardly have
been heard by one across the room.

Georgiana told him, unconsciously letting him see that the fear of her
probable loss was ever before her, though she could not put it into
words. She knew as she spoke that his eyes did not leave her face. She
had no possible idea how alluring was that face as the light from the
sconces nearby fell upon it. She was conscious, womanlike, that the
small hat she wore was made over from one of Jeannette's, and she did
not think it becoming. Though it was November, she still wore her summer
suit, for the reason that since her return from abroad Jeannette had not
found time to pack and send off the usual "Semi-Annual," and previous
boxes had not included winter suits at