"Does she?"
"Well, she did one day lately. At least, she said she'd never seen anybody so altered, nor grown so different, and she couldn't help feeling sure that mother had a lot of pain to bear. She asked me if I didn't know what was wrong, and I said mother had rheumatism now and then; and Mrs. Heavitree said it must be something worse than rheumatism. And I don't see why mother shouldn't tell us, if there was."
"I don't know. People are so funny about health. Some are always fussing about nothing, and others won't say a word if they're downright bad. I'll keep a look-out and see if she does seem ill. That would make a lot of difference."
"It wouldn't make her any sweeter to live with."
"No; only there 'd be an excuse. I could bear with her temper, if I knew it only meant that she was in pain, poor thing! I never thought of that."
The mind of Narcissus was on a fresh tack, and she asked abruptly, "What is this about you and James Todd?"
Marigold coloured, not expecting the question.
"They do say you and he are making up together—and some say it's a downright engagement. But I couldn't believe I shouldn't have been told."
"O no, indeed—"
"But you are seen about with him."