"

"You're going, are you?"

"Yes. I may live here, and have an office in the city. I don't care for
general practise; there's no future in it. I may take a special course
in nose and throat."

But she was not interested in his plans.

"I want to know something, and only you can tell me. I'm not curious
like the rest; I think I have a right to know. Has he seen Elizabeth
Wheeler yet? Talked to her, I mean?"

"I don't know. I'm inclined to think not," he added cautiously.

"You mean that he hasn't?"

"Look here, Mrs. Sayre. You've confided in me, and I know it's important
to you. I don't know a thing. I'm to stay on until the end of the week,
and then he intends to take hold. I'm in and out, see him at meals, and
we've had a little desultory talk. There is no trouble between the two
families. Mr. Wheeler comes and goes. If you ask me, I think Livingstone
has simply accepted the situation as he found it."

"He isn't going to explain anything? He'll have to, I think, if he
expects to practise here. There have been all sorts of stories."

"I don't know, Mrs. Sayre."

"How is Doctor David?" she asked, after a pause.

"Better. It wouldn't surprise me now to see him mend rapidly."

He met Elizabeth on his way down the hill, a strange, bright-eyed
Elizabeth, carrying her head high and a bit too jauntily, and with a
sort of hot defiance in her eyes. He drove on, thoughtfully. All this
turmoil and trouble, anxiety and fear, and all that was left a crushed
and tragic figure of a girl, and two men in an old house, preparing to
fight that one of them might regain the place he had lost.

It would be a fight. Reynolds saw the village already divided into two
camps, a small militant minority, aligned with Dick and David, and a
waiting, not particularly hostile but intensely curious majority,
who would demand certain things before Dick's reinstatement in their
confidence.

Elizabeth Wheeler was an unconscious party to the division. It was, in
a way, her battle they were fighting. And Elizabeth had gone over to the
enemy.

Late that afternoon Ann Sayre had her first real talk with Wallie since
Dick's return. She led him out onto the terrace, her shoulders militant
and her head high, and faced him there.

"I can see you are not going to talk to me," she said. "So I'll talk to
you. Has Dick Livingstone's return made any change between Elizabeth and
you?"

"No."

"She's just the same to you? You must tell me, Wallace