"Don't let him upset you," she could not help saying to the old lady: "I am sure he only wants to be over-conscientious, and—though perhaps I shouldn't venture to say so—it strikes me Sir Charles has really quite a lot of fighting power. Why, if he wasn't any worse the other day——"
The words slipped out before she knew it. She broke off, her face scarlet. Not for words would she have referred to the incident, least of all in Lady Clifford's hearing.
"Why, what happened the other day?" inquired Miss Clifford, placidly dealing.
"Didn't I tell you? I upset a basin of water, almost over him. Wasn't it stupid?"
It was the first thing that came into her mind. She felt the
Frenchwoman's eyes upon her full of shrewd understanding.
"Oh! Was that all? That couldn't have been very serious."
"I assure you the doctor thought it was."
Lady Clifford lit a fresh cigarette and fitted it into her long holder, then she spoke.
"I think, Dido, Charles is certainly less feeble than we feared. These past few days I have felt quite sure he is going to get well. Roger thinks so, too."
The final sentence was not lost on Esther, who chid herself indignantly for being annoyed. Wasn't it better that there should be peace in the house instead of an armed neutrality?