“Did they say anything more of Manuel?”

“Nothing; though I am inclined to agree with you that he isn’t trustworthy.  But that again is the result of John’s idea of employing native skill at the expense of retaining native habits.”

The evening closed early, and with no diminution in the falling rain and rising wind.  Falkner kept his word, and unostentatiously performed the out-door work in the barn and stables, assisted by the only Chinese servant remaining, and under the advice and supervision of Kate.  Although he seemed to understand horses, she was surprised to find that he betrayed a civic ignorance of the ordinary details of the farm and rustic household.  It was quite impossible that she should retain her distrustful attitude, or he his reserve in their enforced companionship.  They talked freely of subjects suggested by the situation, Falkner exhibiting a general knowledge and intuition of things without parade or dogmatism.  Doubtful of all versatility as Kate was, she could not help admitting to herself that his truths were none the less true for their quantity or that he got at them without ostentatious processes.  His talk certainly was more picturesque than her brother’s, and less subduing to her faculties.  John had always crushed her.

When they returned to the house he did not linger in the parlor or sitting-room, but at once rejoined his friend.  When dinner was ready in the dining-room, a little more deliberately arranged and ornamented than usual, the two women were somewhat surprised to receive an excuse from Falkner, begging them to allow him for the present to take his meals with the patient, and thus save the necessity of another attendant.

“It is all shyness, Kate,” said Mrs. Hale, confidently, “and must not be permitted for a moment.”

“I’m sure I should be quite willing to stay with the poor boy myself,” said Mrs. Scott, simply, “and take Mr. Falkner’s place while he dines.”

“You are too willing, mother,” said Mrs. Hale, pertly, “and your ’poor boy,’ as you call him, will never see thirty-five again.”

“He will never see any other birthday!” retorted her mother, “unless you keep him more quiet.  He only talks when you’re in the room.”

“He wants some relief to his friend’s long face and moustachios that make him look prematurely in mourning,” said Mrs. Hale, with a slight increase of animation.  “I don’t propose to leave them too much together.  After dinner we’ll adjourn to their room and lighten it up a little.  You must come, Kate, to look at the patient, and counteract the baleful effects of my frivolity.”