He might as well dine, he reflected, as
sit and argue about it. With a heavy step he passed into the room
where dinner awaited him, and sat down at the table.
No, he was certainly not expecting her at present. He had even of late
begun to ask himself if he expected her at all. It was five months now
since the news of her severe illness had almost induced him to throw
everything aside and go to her. He had only been deterred from this
by a very serious letter from Dr. Jim, strongly advising him to remain
where he was, since it was highly improbable that he would be allowed
to see Daisy for weeks or even months were he at hand, and she would
most certainly be in no fit state to return with him to India. That
letter had been to Will as the passing knell of all he had ever hoped
or desired. Definitely it had told him very little, but he was
not lacking in perception, and he had read a distinct and wholly
unmistakable meaning behind the guarded, kindly sentences. And he knew
when he laid the letter down that in Dr. Jim's opinion his presence
might do incalculable harm. From that day forward he had entertained
no further idea of return, settling down again to his work with a
dogged patience that was very nearly allied to despair.
He was undoubtedly a rising man. There were prospects of a speedy
improvement in his position.
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