“Go away!” sobbed Sophia Jane. “I’m very poorly. My head aches.”
“Let me put wet rags on it,” said Susan eagerly. “I’ve done it often for Freddie. I’ll fetch Aunt Hannah’s eau de Cologne. It’ll soon make it better.”
Sophia Jane turned her head round from the wall and fixed two inflamed blue eyes upon her companion.
“I’m not crying,” she said, “but I’m very poorly. The sun made my eyes water when we were out this afternoon, and my head aches.”
“I’ll soon do it good,” said Susan.
She jumped off the box and ran down-stairs, quickly returning with some eau de Cologne mixed with water in a tumbler, and a clean pocket-handkerchief.
Sophia Jane was quieter now, and lay watching her preparations with some satisfaction, though her chest heaved now and then, and she blinked her red eyelids as though the light hurt them. When the cool bandage was put on her forehead she gave a sigh of comfort, and rested her head on Susan’s lap as she sat behind her on the edge of the box.
“I’ll tell you something,” she said presently.
“I was crying. I’m dreadfully, dreadfully sorry you’re going away.”
“I’m glad you’re sorry,” said Susan, “because I was afraid you didn’t mind.”