long ago when no other child would play with her, and now he said,
"You have grown cold to me, Grizel," and she nodded assent, and little
wells of water rose to her eyes and lay there because she had nodded
assent.

She had never liked Dr. Gemmell so little as when she saw him
approaching her house next morning. The surgery was still attached to
it, and very often he came from there, his visiting-book in his hand,
to tell her of his patients, even to consult her; indeed, to talk to
Grizel about his work without consulting her would have been
difficult, for it was natural to her to decide what was best for
everybody. These consultations were very unprofessional, but from her
first coming to the old doctor's house she had taken it as a matter of
course that in his practice, as in affairs relating to his boots and
buttons, she should tell him what to do and he should do it. McQueen
had introduced his assistant to this partnership half-shamefacedly and
with a cautious wink over the little girl's head; and Gemmell fell
into line at once, showing her his new stethoscope as gravely as if he
must abandon it at once should not she approve, which fine behaviour,
however, was quite thrown away on Grizel, who, had he conducted
himself otherwise, would merely have wondered what was the matter with
the man; and as she was eighteen or more before she saw that she had
exceeded her duties, it was then, of course, too late to cease doing
it.

She knew now how good, how forbearing, he had been to the little girl,
and that it was partly because he was acquainted with her touching
history. The grave courtesy with which he had always treated her--and
which had sometimes given her as a girl a secret thrill of delight, it
was so sweet to Grizel to be respected--she knew now to be less his