It's the straightest thing." "I daresay, dear, in your friendships it is.

But I think you can hardly judge of this.

You do not know Dr.Cautley as I do." "No," said Rhoda meekly, "perhaps I don't." Not for worlds would she have destroyed that beautiful illusion.
"It has been," continued Miss Quincey, "a very peculiar, a very interesting relationship.

Strange too--considering.

If you had asked me six months ago I should have told you that the thing was impossible, or rather, that in nine cases out of ten--I mean I should have said it was highly improbable that Dr.Cautley would take the faintest interest in me, let alone like me." "He does like you, dear Miss Quincey, I know he does." "How do you know ?" "He told me so." (Miss Quincey quivered and a faint flush worked up through the sallow of her cheek.) "And I'm sure he would be most distressed to think you were unhappy." "It is not unhappiness; certainly not unhappiness.