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"I've got to pack tonight, young lady," Bruce reminded her. "I'm not so fortunate as to be coming to Greycroft, you'll remember. It takes longer to get to Chicago than to Rockham.","If she's going to be a writer, she'll drop her dignified pose soon enough," predicted Elinor easily. "She'll be too much interested in other people and things to remember herself too vividly.",And when that conflagration was lighted in me about my début, Tom did it. I was sitting peaceably in my own summer-house, dressed in the summer-before-last that Jane washes and irons every day while I am deciding how to hand out the first sip of my trousseau to the neighbours, when Tom, in a dangerous blue-striped shirt, with a tie that melted into it in tone, jumped over my fence and landed at my side. He kissed the lace ruffle on my sleeve while I reproved him severely and settled down to enjoy him. But I didn't have such a good time as I generally do with him. He was too full of another woman, and even a first cousin can be an exasperation in that condition.,But Patricia was too much absorbed to heed.,He was tall, he was thin, with a dark, lean face, and fiery watchful dark eyes. For three years he had been wasting his talents in the neighboring town of Deanminster; when, if intellect were in question, he should have been shouldering his way above the crowd of mediocrities in London. The man was dispassionate, brilliant and persevering; he had in him the makings not only of a great physician, but of a great man; and he was wasting his gifts in a dull provincial town. He was unpopular in Deanminster, owing to the absence of what is termed "a good bedside manner," and the invalids of the cathedral city and Hurstleigh, for he had patients in both places, resented his brusque ways and avoidance of their scandal-mongering tea parties. Also he was a mystery; than which there can be no greater sin in provincial eyes. No one knew who Etwald was, or whence he came, or why he wasted his talents in the desert of Deanminster; and such secret past which he declined to yield up to the most persistent questioner, accentuated the distrust caused by his sombre looks and curt speeches. Provincial society is intolerant of originality.,"For God's sake, don't even hint at such a thing," he cried, vehemently. "It would be too terrible; and, as it happens, quite unbelievable. It is incredible that such a thing could occur nowadays.","Does she refuse to give evidence against Etwald?",Patricia followed her into the big, clay-soiled, dusty room, clutching her new smooth wooden tools with nervous fingers.,"You'll hurt her feelings, Miss Pat," protested Elinor, as Judith's dignified back disappeared into her own room and the door closed firmly. "She doesn't mean to be boastful.","As if I'd publish it on the housetops!" she cried in infinite disdain. "It's plain you aren't much up in detective stories.",CHAPTER XI THE LITTLE RIFT,"She has called flesh and blood," said Isabella, with a shiver. "But there is nothing strange about Dr. Etwald's appearance just now. Dido did not call him; she simply felt that he was at hand, and went to meet him at the gate.".