"I'm afraid not," William King said. "I'm very sorry." But that his
sorrow was not for Maggie was evident.

"Oh, dear!" said Mrs. Richie; and then her eyes crinkled with gayety
at his concern. "I don't really mind, Dr. King."

"I shouldn't blame you if you did. Nobody likes scrappy dinners. I
wish you would come down and have dinner with us?"

"Oh, thank you, no," she said. And the sudden shy retreat into her
habitual reserve was followed by a silence that suggested departure to
the doctor. As he got up he remembered Dr. Lavendar and the little
boy, but he was at a loss how to introduce the subject. In his
perplexity he frowned, and Mrs. Richie said quickly:

"Of course she sha'n't do any work. I'm not so bad-tempered as you
think; I only meant that I don't like discomfort."

"_You_ bad-tempered?" he said. "No, indeed! You're just the opposite.
That's why I suggested you when I heard about this boy."

"What boy?"

"Why, a little fellow of seven--David his name is--that Dr. Lavendar
is trying to find a home for. And I thought perhaps you--"

"--would take him?" cried Mrs. Richie in astonishment, and then she
laughed. "_I!_"

"Why, it occurred to me that perhaps you might be lonely, and--"