The difference in
their ages, which at first to her inexperience had seemed such a
trifling consideration, proved more serious as time went on.
She was eager for life, keen for pleasure, plastic, susceptible. Each
new experience was to her an epoch, while to the Doctor, whose habits
and opinions were fixed for eternity, it was usually but a fresh
interruption to his work.
It was not that he failed to appreciate her. The light that came into
his serious eyes whenever she was near, the unfailing courtesy and
gentleness with which he spoke to her, the absolute freedom he allowed
her, and the flattering appeal he made to her intellect, calmed
whatever doubts might have risen in her mind.
Of her own feelings she dared not stop to think. Life was all so
strange, so different from what she had expected. The flashes of doubt
and perplexity that came in the pauses between Connie's closely
planned festivities, she attributed to homesickness.
It was late when her last caller departed, and as she ran lightly up
to the Doctor's study, she realized with a little sense of
disappointment that she had not seen him since breakfast. Even now she
paused at the door, for fear she would interrupt some flight of the
muse.
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