Joan spoke with a sharp ungraciousness, and then she rose and walked to the window, which she flung open, as if in craving for air. The others could hear a gasp. Nessie looked at Leonard and whispered—
“Hadn’t you better give way?”
“You are wrong, Joan; but if you are determined, you shall have your will,” Leo said at length. “Come and sit down.”
“No; I can’t sit down! I can’t eat! Why will you torture me so?” Joan said, with a look of anguish. “Oh, I know it must be something so terribly bad, or you could not keep me waiting! And I don’t know how to wait—I don’t know how to bear it!”
The slight displeasure in Leonard’s manner vanished, and he went to the window.
“You will take cold,” he said; “the air is so sharp. Joan, come and sit down, and you shall ask what you like.”
The look of those black eyes, with their dread and pain and gratitude, touched him keenly. She allowed him to lead her to the arm-chair, and leaning back in it, she shivered violently.
“Yes,” she said—“yes. Oh, go on, please!”
“He seems about the same this morning as last night—not conscious yet. Yes, very much hurt—” as the blanched lips moved questioningly,—“I cannot tell you how much. The scalds are terribly severe. There would be great suffering if he were conscious. The immediate danger is from them, but there are other injuries also. The insensibility arises from a very bad blow on the head. A good nurse is in attendance, and Mr. Forest was there a long while. You could do nothing, and he would not know you. Better that you should take care of yourself now, so as to be able to help when your help is needed, if—when—Yes, I was going to say, when he begins to come to himself. He will want you then.”
“If!” was the only word which passed Joan’s lips.