At noon the doctor himself arrived. With this view, he hurried to the spot where he had left the post-chaise, and found it drawn up at the road-side, the postilion dismounted, and in charge of a couple of farming-men. A certain irritation crept into his manner as he did so. And then amusement crept into Alderley’s chest and he let his pistol hand fall. Consternation gripped him. CHAPTER XII. “No one asks you to care for them. "Are you his ghost, then?" "No—no," answered Jack. “Yes. What was it in her heart or mind or soul that went out to this man? Music—was that it? Was he powerless to stir her without the gift? But hadn't he fascinated her by his talk, gentle and winning? Ah, but that had been after he had played for her. Enschede—that's a queer name. “And so you have been thinking?” her father began, quoting her letter and looking over his slanting glasses at her.
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