on the grounds
that she "couldn't fancy it." For a long time Miss Quincey was supremely
happy in the belief that these delicacies were sent by the Head; and she
said to herself that one had only to be laid aside a little while for
one's worth to be appreciated. It was as if a veil of blessed illusion
had been spread between her and her world; and nobody knew whose fingers
had been busy in weaving it so close and fine.

Dr. Cautley came every day and always at the same time. At first he was
pretty sure to find Miss Vivian, sitting with Miss Quincey or drinking
tea in perilous intimacy with Mrs. Moon. Then came a long spell when,
time it as he would, he never saw her at all. Rhoda had taken it into her
head to choose six o'clock for her visits, and at six he was bound to be
at home for consultations. But Rhoda or no Rhoda, he kept his promise. He
was looking well after Miss Quincey. He would have done that as a matter
of course; for his worst enemies--and he had several--could not say that
Cautley ever neglected his poorer patients. Only he concentrated or
dissipated himself according to the nature of the case, giving five
minutes to one and twenty to another. When he could he gave half-hours to
Miss Quincey. He was absorbed, excited; he battled by her bedside; his
spirits went up and down with every fluctuation of her pulse; you would
have thought that Miss Quincey's case was one of exquisite interest,
rarity and charm, and that Cautley had staked his reputation on her
recovery. When he said to her in his emphatic way, "We _must_ get you
well, Miss Quincey," his manner implied that it would be a very serious
thing for the universe if Miss Quincey did not get well. When he looked
at her his eyes seemed to be taking her in, taking her in, seeing nothing
in all the world but her.

As it happened, sooner than anybody expected Miss Quincey did get well.
Mrs. Moon was the first to notice that. She hailed Juliana's recovery as
a sign of grace, of returning allegiance to the memory of Tollington
Moon.

"Now," said the Old Lady, "I hope we've seen the last of Dr. Cautley."

"Of course we have," said Miss Quincey. She said it irritably, but
everybody knows that a little temper is the surest symptom of returning
health. "What should he come for?"

"To run up his little bill, my dear. You don't imagine he comes for the
pleasure of seeing _you_?"

"I never imagine anything," said the little arithmetic teacher with some
truth.