e ways of bad ones,
and she asked anxiously, "There was nothing wrong in it, was there?"

"No," the doctor answered gravely, laying his hand on hers, "no, it was
just sweet."

* * * * *

What McQueen had to say to her was not for Tommy's ears, and the
conversation was but a makeshift until they reached Thrums, where he
sent the boy home, recommending him to hold his tongue about the
escapade (and Tommy of course saw the advisability of keeping it from
Elspeth); but he took Grizel into his parlor and set her down on the
buffet stool by the fire, where he surveyed her in silence at his
leisure. Then he tried her in his old armchair, then on his sofa; then
he put the _Mentor_ into her hand and told her to hold it as if it were
a duster, then he sent her into the passage, with instructions to open
the door presently and announce "Dinner is ready;" then he told her to
put some coals on the fire; then he told her to sit at the window, first
with an open book in her hand, secondly as if she was busy knitting; and
all these things she did wondering exceedingly, for he gave no
explanation except the incomprehensible one, "I want to see what it
would be like."

She had told him in the gig why she had changed the position of the
mirror at Double Dykes, it was to let "that darling" wave good-by to her
from the window; and now having experimented with her in his parlor he
drew her toward his chair, so that she stood between his knees. And he
asked her if she understood why he had gone to Double Dykes.

"Was it to get me to tell you what were the names in the letter?" she
said, wistfully. "That is what everyone asks me, but I won't tell, no, I
won't;" and she closed her mouth hard.

He, too, would have liked to hear the names, and he sighed, it must be
admitted, at sight of that determined mouth, but he could say
truthfully, "Your refusal to break your promise is one of the things
that I admire in you."

Admire! Grizel could scarce believe that this gift was for her. "You
don't mean that you really like me?" she faltered, but she felt sure all
the time that he did, and she cried, "Oh, but why, oh, how can you!"

"For one reason," he said, "because you are so good."

"Good! Oh! oh! oh!" She clapped her hands joyously.

"And for another--because you are so brave."

"But I am not really brave," she said anxiously, yet resolved to hide
nothing, "I only pretend to be brave, I am often frightened