'I have observed,' replied Madame Frabelle, putting her hand in the sock that she was knitting, and looking at it critically, her head on one side, 'I have observed that Bruce is not at all well.'
'Oh, I'm sorry you think that. It's true he has seemed rather what he calls off colour lately.'
'He suffers,' said Madame Frabelle, as if announcing a great discovery,' he suffers from Nerves.'
'I know he does, my dear. Who should know it better than I do? But—do you think he is worse lately?'
'I do. He is terribly depressed. He says things to me sometimes that—well, that really quite alarm me.'
'I'm sorry. But you mustn't take Bruce too seriously, you know that.'
'Indeed I don't take him too seriously! And I've done my best either to change the subject or to make him see the silver lining to every cloud,' Madame Frabelle answered solemnly, with a shake of her head.
'I think what Bruce complains of is the want of a silver lining to his purse,' Edith said.
'You are jesting, Edith dear.'
'No, I'm not. He worries about money.'