"Dear me!" she said. "How fierce we are this morning! And what if Olga prefers my company to yours?"

"That has nothing to do with it," he returned. "I am here professionally.".

"And if Olga is not requiring your professional services?" she suggested daringly.

"Oh, Violet dear, I think you had better go," interposed Olga nervously.

"You can come back again when you are dressed."

Violet's beautiful eyes suddenly gleamed. She moved to the door, stepping daintily with her bare feet.

"Dr. Wyndham," she said, "I congratulate you on your conquest. It has been a ridiculously easy capture, but I warned her she had met her fate long ago. No doubt she has wisely decided that to run away any longer would be a waste of energy. _En tout cas_,--" she made an airy gesture of the hands,--"my blessing be upon you both!"

And with that, lightly she crossed the threshold, and was gone, flitting like a sunbeam from the room.

Quietly Max closed the door. He did not look at Olga, but walked straight to the window and stood there with his back turned and his hands in his pockets, staring outwards.

"I hope you don't object to an early visit," he said, after a moment. "I want to get my rounds done in good time to-day, and I didn't like to leave without seeing you first."

"I don't mind at all," stammered Olga in reply. "But--really, there's no reason for you to--to bother about me. I've had a good night, and--and I'm going to get up."

"Really?" he said. "You're not going raspberry picking, I hope?"

She laughed somewhat tremulously. Violet's vindictive thrust had embarra.s.sed rather than hurt her. She looked at the great square shoulders that intervened between her eyes and the morning sunshine, and wondered why he did not turn. Was it possible that he could be feeling embarra.s.sed too? She could scarcely imagine it; but yet the position was sufficiently intolerable for him also.

"I'm afraid the raspberries will have to go," she said regretfully, "unless the boys--"

"They would probably eat 'em as fast as they picked 'em," observed Max grimly. "I know boys."

Again, rather feebly, she laughed. "It seems a pity," she said.

"I shouldn't worry," said Max. "Besides, it's Sunday. You couldn't make jam on Sunday in any case."

"I could, though," said Olga, "if the fruit wouldn't keep till Monday."

He laughed. "What an admirably practical spirit!"

"Thank you!" said Olga. "That's the first nice thing you have ever said to me."

"Oh, no, it isn't!" said Max. "May I come and take a survey now?"

"I can't imagine what you are waiting for," she returned with renewed spirit.

She could meet him on the old fencing-ground without a tremor; at least so she fancied. But the next instant he disconcerted her in the most unexpected fashion.

"I have been waiting for your pulse to steady down," he said coolly.

"Oh!" said Olga.

He left the window and came to her side. She gave him her hand with an abrupt, childish movement.

"It's great nonsense!" she said, with burning cheeks. "You can't possibly make me out ill."

She saw one side of his mouth go up. He took out his watch, but he looked at her.

"You don't imagine that I want to keep you as a patient, do you?" he said.

"You know you always like people best when they are ill," she retorted.

"Do I?" he said.

"Well, don't you?"

"I wonder what makes you think so," he said.

She looked straight up at him with something of defiance. "You never bother to be nice to people unless they are ill."

He frowned a little. "I've been as nice as you would let me," he said.

"Yes, yes," said Olga rather hurriedly. "Of course we are friends. But, Max, there's something I want to say to you. It's very particular. Be quick with my pulse!"

He let her hand slip from his. "It's about a hundred and fifty," he observed, "but that seems to be the normal rate with you. I don't think you had better talk to me now unless it's to be a professional consultation. You can get up if you want to, and I will give Nick a list of the things you are not to do."

He would have gone with the words, but imperiously she detained him.

"You must wait a minute now. I want to speak about--about that compact we made the other day. You--you knew I was only joking, didn't you? You didn't--really--? tell Major Hunt-Goring--that?"

"Yes, I did," said Max. "And do you generally go and cry into the surgery towel when you are enjoying a joke?"

"Oh, Max! You told him?" Her face was tragic. "And what did he say?"

"He congratulated me," said Max.

"Max!"

"My dear girl, I'm telling you the truth; but really, since you have discharged yourself as cured, this has become a highly improper situation. Don't you think we had better postpone this discussion to a more suitable moment?"

Max was openly laughing into her face of distress. She suddenly felt abundantly rea.s.sured. He could not--surely--look and speak like this if he dreamed of wooing her in earnest!

"I don't want any discussion," she hastened to tell him. "Only--please, do go and tell Major Hunt-Goring that--that--there's been a mistake, and--in short--"

"In short that you've thrown me over?" said Max. "Oh, thanks, no! You can tell him that--if you wish!"

"He must be told," she said.

"I don't see why." Max smiled upon her with good-natured indulgence.

"Have you suddenly taken fright at something?" he asked.

She smiled also, but a little anxiously. "I'm afraid it wasn't a very wise move after all. I want to put an end to it."