s thinking of him as if he were some
mature and wise friend who had always been kind to her. He need not
rigidly watch his words and hers. She was not afraid of him at all;
there was no shrinking in her eyes when they met his. If Alixe had had a
daughter who was his own, she might have lifted such lovely eyes to him.

They lunched together and Dowie served them with deft ability and an
expression which Coombe was able to comprehend the at once watchful and
directing meaning of. It directed him to observation of Robin's appetite
and watched for his encouraged realisation of it as a supporting fact.

He went to his own rooms in the afternoon that she might be alone and
rest. He read an old book for an hour and then talked with the Macaurs
about the place and their work and their new charge. He wanted to hear
what they were thinking of her.

"It's wonderful, my lord!" was Mrs. Macaur's repeated contribution. "She
came here a wee ghost. She frighted me. I couldna see how she could go
through what's before her. I lay awake in my bed expectin' Mrs. Dowie to
ca' me any hour. An' betwixt one night and anither the change cam. She's
a well bairn--for woman she isna, puir wee thing! It's a wonder--a
wonder--a wonder, my lord!"

When he saw Dowie alone he asked her a question.

"Does she know that you have told me of the dream?"

"No, my lord. The dream's a thing we don't talk about. She's only
mentioned it three times. It's in my mind that she feels it's too sacred
to be made common by words."

He had wondered if Robin had been aware of his knowledge. After Dowie's
answer he wondered if she would speak to him about the dream herself.
Perhaps she would not. It might be that she had asked him to come to
Darreuch because her thought of him had so changed that she had
realised something of his grave anxiety for her health and a gentle
consideration had made her wish to give him the opportunity to see her
face to face. Perhaps she had intended only this.

"I want to see her," he had said to himself. The relief of the mere
seeing had been curiously great. He had the relief of sinking, as it
were, into the deep waters of pure peace on this new planet. In this
realisation every look at the child's face, every movement she made,
every tone of her voice, aided. Did she know that she soothed him? Did
she intend to try to soothe? When they were together she gave him a
feeling that she was strangely near and soft and warm. He had felt