concentrating her attention on that more mysterious witness to Juliana's
foolishness--the Cake.

"And now," said she, pointing as she might have pointed to a monument,
"will you kindly tell me the meaning of this?"

"I expect--perhaps--it is very likely--that Dr. Cautley will come in to
tea this afternoon."

The Old Lady peered at Miss Quincey and her eyes were sharp as needles,
needles that carried the thread of her thought pretty plainly too, but it
was too fine a thread for Miss Quincey to see. Besides she was looking
at the cake and almost regretting that she had bought it, lest he should
think that it was eating too many of such things that had made her ill.

"And what put that notion into your head, I should like to know?"

"He has written to say so."

"Juliana--you don't mean to tell me that he invited himself?"

"Well, no. That is--it was an answer to my invitation."

"_Your_ invitation? You were not content to have that man poking his nose
in here at all hours of the day and night, but you must go out of your
way to send him invitations?"

"Dr. Cautley has been most kind and attentive, and--I thought--it was
time we paid him some little attention."