After a protracted interval Mrs. Prockter reappeared.
She began by sighing. "The foolish boy is seriously damaged," said she.
"Not hurt?" Helen asked.
"Yes. But only in his dignity. He pretends it's his throat, but it isn't. It's only his dignity. I suppose all singers are children, like that. I'm really ashamed to have to ask you to let him lie there a little, dear Miss Rathbone; but he is positively sure that he can't get up. I've been through these crises with him before, but never one quite so bad."
She laughed. They all laughed.
"I'll let him lie there on one condition," Helen sweetly replied. "And that is that you stay to dinner. I am relying on you. And I won't take a refusal."
Mrs. Prockter looked sharply at James, and James blushed.
"James," she exclaimed, "you've told her. And you promised you wouldn't till to-morrow."
"Nay!" said James. "I've said nowt! It's you as has let it out, now, missis!"
"Told me what, Mrs. Prockter?" Helen asked, utterly unexpectant of the answer she was to get.