"She doesn't; she isn't the kind that thinks of things like that. Of
course, some women would have discovered it months ago; one of your
strong-minded ladies, perhaps--only Sam wouldn't have been spoony on
that kind."
"Well!" said Martha, "I must say, flat--"
But William interrupted her--"To prove what I say: she lets him come
in and bore her to death, just out of kindness. Do you suppose she
would do that if she knew he was such an idiot as to presume to--to--"
"Well," said Dr. Lavendar, "as there is so much ignorance about,
perhaps Sam doesn't know he's lost his heart?"
But at that William laughed, "He knows; Trust a young fellow!
That's just the difference between a man and a woman, sir; the man
always knows; the woman, if she's the right kind, doesn't--until she's
told."
"Tck!" said Martha, Dr. Lavendar looked down at the bowl of his pipe then he said meekly,
"I was under the impression that Eve ate her apple before Adam had so
much as a bite. Still, whether Mrs. Richie knows the state of Sam's
affections or not, I do wish she would urge him to put his mind on his
work. That's what I came in to speak to you about. His father is all
on edge about it, and now his grandfather has taken it into his head
to be worried over it, too But you know her better than the rest of us
do, and I thought perhaps you'd drop a hint that she would be doing
missionary work if she'd influence the boy to be more industrious."
"I'll go and talk it over with her," Martha volunteered. "I am always
ready to advise any one."
William King got up and kicked at a lump of coal in the grate. "I am
sure you are," he said dryly; "but no talking over is necessary., I
shall probably be going up the hill in a few days, and I'll say a word
if Dr. Lavendar wants me to. Nothing definite; just enlist her
sympathy for his father--and get her to protect herself, too. He must
be an awful nuisance."
"That's it!" said Dr. Lavendar. "I'd do it myself, but you know her
better than I do. I'm getting acquainted with her through David. David
is really a remarkable child! I can't tell you how I miss him." And
then he began to relate David's sayings, while Martha sewed fiercely,
and William stared at the hearth-rug "The little rascal is no Peter
Grievous," Dr Lavendar declared, proudly; and told a story of a badly
barked knee, and a very stiff upper-lip; "and the questions he asks!"
said the old man, holding up both hands; "theological questions; the
House of Bishops couldn't answer 'em!" He repeated some of the
questions, watching the husband and wife with swift glances over his
spectacles; when he had wrung a reluctant laugh from the doctor, and
Mrs., King was not sewing so fast, he went home, not much rested by
his call.