“Oh-h-h-h-O, Moira!” she cried. “Now, I must keep my temper,” she added to herself. “But I am so cross about this. Oh-h-h-h-O, Moira!”
“She looks positively happy. Ugh! Disgusting! And so lovely too.”
“Did you want me, Mandy? I am so sorry I forgot all about the tea.”
“So I should suppose,” snapped Mandy crossly. “I saw you were too deeply engaged to think.”
“You saw?” exclaimed the girl, a startled dismay in her face.
“Yes, and I would suggest that you select a less conspicuous stage for your next scene. Certainly I got quite a shock. If it had been Raven, Moira, I could have stood it.”
“Raven! Raven! Oh, stop! Not a word, Mandy.” Her voice was hushed and there was a look of pain in her eyes.
“But Smith!” went on Mandy relentlessly. “I was too disgusted.”
“Well, what is wrong with Mr. Smith?” inquired Moira, her chin rising.
“Oh, there is nothing wrong with Smith,” replied her sister-in-law crossly, “but--well--kissing him, you know.”
“Kissing him?” echoed Moira faintly. “Kissing him? I did not--”
“It looked to me uncommonly like it at any rate,” said Mandy. “You surely don't deny that you were kissing him?”
“I was not. I mean, it was Smith--perhaps--yes, I think Smith did--”
“Silly! If I want to kiss Mr. Smith, why is it anybody's business?”
“That's just it,” said Mandy indignantly. “Why should you want to?”
“Well, that is my affair,” said Moira in an angry tone, and with a high head and lofty air she appeared in the doctor's presence.
But Dr. Martin was apparently oblivious of both her lofty air and the angle of her chin. He was struggling to suppress from observation a tumult of mingled passions of jealousy, rage and humiliation. That this girl whom for four years he had loved with the full strength of his intense nature should have given herself to another was grief enough; but the fact that this other should have been a man of Smith's caliber seemed to add insult to his grief. He felt that not only had she humiliated him but herself as well.
“If she is the kind of girl that enjoys kissing Smith I don't want her,” he said to himself savagely, and then cursed himself that he knew it was a lie. For no matter how she should affront him or humiliate herself he well knew he should take her gladly on his bended knees from Smith's hands. The cure somehow was not working, but he would allow no one to suspect it. His voice was even and his manner cheerful as ever. Only Mrs. Cameron, who held the key to his heart, suspected the agony through which he was passing during the tea-hour. And it was to secure respite for him that the tea was hurried and the doctor packed off to saddle Pepper and round up the cows for the milking.