April put her hands up to her head and tried not to listen, but her mother’s voice flowed on:
“And now, dear, do go out for a walk—just a little one.”
“But, mother, dear, I don’t want to, really, and I’m feeling so tired.”
“There, what did I say? You’re feeling tired and you’ve done nothing all day. There must be something wrong with you. I shall certainly ask Dr. Dunkin to come and see you to-morrow.”
“Oh, yes, yes, yes, mother. I’ll do anything you like to-morrow. If you’ll only leave me alone to-night.”
But Mrs. Curtis went on talking, and April grew more and more exasperated, and the minutes went past and Roland did not come. Six struck and half-past six, and a few minutes later she heard her father’s latch-key in the door. And then the whole question of her health was dragged out again.
“I was saying to you only yesterday, father, that our little April wasn’t as well as she ought to be. She has overworked, I think. Last night she went to bed early and to-day she looks quite pale, and she says that she feels tired although she hasn’t really done anything. I must send for Dr. Dunkin to-morrow.”
It seemed to April that the voice would never stop. It beat and beat upon her brain, like the ticking of the watch that reminded her of the flying moments. “He won’t come now,” she said; “he won’t come now.” Seven o’clock had struck, the lamps were lit, evening had descended upon the street. He had never come as late as this before. But she still sat at the window, gazing down the street towards the figures that became distinct for a moment in the lamplight. “He will not come now,” she said, and suddenly she felt limp, tired, incapable of resistance. She put her head upon her knees and began to sob.
In a moment her mother’s arms were round her. “But, darling, what is it, April, dear?”
She could not speak. She shook her head, tried desperately to make a sign that she was all right, that she would rather be left alone; but it was no use. She felt too bitterly the need for human sympathy. She turned, flung her arms about her mother’s neck, and began to sob and sob.