The Young Doctor laid his hands on both her shoulders.
“Kitty Tynan, the man who gets you will get
what he doesn’t deserve,” he remarked.
“That might mean anything.”
“It means that Crozier owes you more than he
can guess.”
Her eyes shone with a strange, soft glow. “In
spite of opening the letter?”
The Young Doctor nodded, then added humorously:
“That letter you wrote her—I’m
not sure that my cable wouldn’t have far more
effect than your letter.”
“Certainly not. You tried to frighten
her, but I tried to coax her, to make her feel ashamed.
I wrote as though I was fifty.”
The Young Doctor regarded her dubiously. “What
was the sort of thing you said to her?”
“For one thing, I said that he had every comfort
and attention two loving women and one fond nurse
could give him; but that, of course, his legitimate
wife would naturally be glad to be beside him when
he passed away, and that if she made haste she might
be here in time.”
The Young Doctor leaned against a tree shaking with
laughter.
“What are you smiling at?” Kitty asked
ironically. “Oh, she’ll be sure
to come—nothing will keep her away after
being coaxed like that!” he said, when he could
get breath.
“Laughing at me as though I was a clown in a
circus!” she exclaimed. “Laughing
when, as you say yourself, the man that she—the
cat—wrote that fiendish letter to is in
trouble.”
“It was a fiendish letter, was it?” he
asked, suddenly sobered again. “No, no,
don’t tell me,” he added, with a protesting
gesture. “I don’t want to hear.
I don’t want to know. I oughtn’t
to know. Besides, if she comes, I don’t
want to be prejudiced against her. He is troubled,
poor fellow.”
“Of course he is. There’s the big
land deal—his syndicate. He’s
got a chance of making a fortune, and he can’t
do it because—but Jesse Bulrush told me
in confidence, so I can’t explain.”
“I have an idea, a pretty good idea. Askatoon
is small.”
“And mean sometimes.”
“Tell me what you know. Perhaps I can
help him,” urged the Young Doctor. “I
have helped more than one good man turn a sharp corner
here.”
She caught his arm. “You are as good as
gold.” “You are—impossible,”
he replied.
They talked of Crozier’s land deal and syndicate
as they walked slowly towards the house. Mrs.
Tynan met them at the door, a look of excitement in
her face. “A telegram for you Kitty,”
she said.
“For me!” exclaimed Kitty eagerly.
“It’s a year since I had one.”
She tore open the yellow envelope. A light shot
up in her face. She thrust the telegram into
the Young Doctor’s hands.
“She’s coming; his wife’s coming.
She’s in Quebec now. It was my letter—my
letter, not your cable, that brought her,” Kitty
added triumphantly.
