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She must have destroyed all her papers, poor dear, before her last illness; and the Handbill and the other things can only have escaped, because they were left in a place which she never thought of examining. Isn't it provoking?" With a mind inexpressibly relieved, good Doctor Allday asked permission to return to his patients: leaving Emily to devote herself to her friend's letter.
"If you think that I take an interest in her, too," Miss Jethro interposed, "you are perfectly right I knew her father," she added abruptly; the allusion to Emily having apparently reminded her of the question which she had hitherto declined to notice. "In that case," Doctor Allday proceeded, "I want a word of advice. Won't you sit down?" She took a chair in silence.
"Whatever you may say, Doctor Allday, is trusted to my honor. If you doubt my honor, be so good as to let go my arm I am not walking your way." The doctor's hand tightened its grasp. "That little flourish of temper, my dear sir, is all I want to set me at my ease. I feel I have got hold of the right man. Now answer me this. Have you ever heard of a person named Miss Jethro?"
The doctor looked at her with a sardonic smile; he thought it likely that he had discovered her sweetheart. "Who is Mr. Alban Morris?" he asked. "The drawing-master at Miss Ladd's school." Doctor Allday dropped the subject: masters at ladies' schools were not persons who interested him.
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