To concentrate on Elspeth so that he might find out what was in her mind was, as we have seen, seldom necessary to Tommy; for he had learned her by heart long ago.  Yet a time was now come when he had to concentrate, and even then he was doubtful of the result.  So often he had put that mind of hers to rights that it was an open box to him, or had been until he conceived the odd notion that perhaps it contained a secret drawer.  This would have been resented by most brothers, but Tommy’s chagrin was nothing compared to the exhilaration with which he perceived that he might be about to discover something new about woman.  He was like the digger whose hand is on the point of closing on a diamond—­a certain holiness added.

What puzzled him was the state of affairs now existing between Elspeth and the doctor.  A week had elapsed since the fishing excursion, and David had not visited them.  Too busy?  Tommy knew that it is the busy people who can find time.  Could it be that David had proposed to her at the waterside?

No, he could not read that in Elspeth’s face.  He knew that she would be in distress lest her refusal should darken the doctor’s life for too long a time; but yet (shake your fist at him, ladies, for so misunderstanding you!) he expected also to note in that sympathetic face a look of subdued triumph, and as it was not there, David could not have proposed.

The fact of her not having told him about it at once did not prove to Tommy that there had been no proposal.  His feeling was that she would consider it too sacred a thing to tell even to him, but that it would force its way out in a week or two.

On the other hand, she could not have resisted dropping shyly such remarks as these:  “I think Dr. Gemmell is a noble man,” or, “How wonderfully good Dr. Gemmell is to the poor!”

Also she would sometimes have given Tommy a glance that said, “I wonder if you guess.”  Had they quarrelled?  Tommy smiled.  If it was but a quarrel he was not merely appeased—­he was pleased.  Had he had the ordering of the affair, he would certainly have included a lovers’ quarrel in it, and had it not been that he wanted to give her the pleasure of finding these things out for herself, he would have taken her aside and addressed her thus:  “No need to look tragic, Elspeth; for to a woman this must be really one of the most charming moments in the comedy.  You feel that he would not have quarrelled had he had any real caring for you, and yet in your heart you know it is a proof that he has.  To a woman, I who know assure you that nothing can be more delicious.  Your feeling for him, as you and I well know, is but a sentiment of attraction because he loves you as you are unable to love him, and as you are so pained by this quarrel, consider how much more painful it must be to him.  You think you have been slighted; that when a man has seemed to like you so much you have a right to be told so by him, that you may help him with your sympathy.