"Certainly, Enid. I am really quite well now." There was still no alacrity in his reply.
"And you wrote to me, saying that I had not written——"
"And you had not—for a month or more," said he, smiling a little more frankly into her face. "Was I wrong?"
"Did you expect me to write?"
"Yes, certainly. Why not?"
"You did not think that I should believe what your sister has been saying?" Enid asked.
"Flossy? What does she say?"
"Miss West has not told you? Of course she knows; for she was here when Mrs. Vane and the General called."
"I suppose that everything disagreeable has been kept from me," said Hubert, after little pause. "I know that there is a pile of letters which my nurses will not let me read. Tell me what has been going on."
"I am sorry to have to say disagreeable things to you," said Enid softly. "It will not make you ill again, will it, Hubert?"