“My dear sister, this feeling is very—it becomes you well. This is a fearful responsibility.”
She could not answer. She only leant back in the carriage, with closed eyes, and moaned—
“Oh! Joe! Joe!”
“Indeed,” said his brother, greatly touched, “we want him more than ever.”
He did not try to talk any more to her, and when they reached the Pagoda, all she could do was to hurry up stairs, and, throwing off her bonnet, bury her face in the pillow.
Janet and her aunt both followed, the latter with kind and tender solicitude; but Caroline could bear nothing, and begged only to be left alone.
“Dear Ellen, it is very kind, but nothing does any good to these headaches. Please don’t—please leave me alone.”
They saw it was the only true kindness, and left her, after all attempts at bathing her forehead, or giving her sal volatile, proved only to molest her. She lay on her bed, not able to think, and feeling nothing but the pain of her headache and a general weight and loneliness.
The first break was from Allen, who came in tenderly with a cup of coffee, saying that they thought her time was come for being ready for it. His manner always did her good, and she sat up, pushed back her hair, smiled, took the cup, and thanked him lovingly.
“Uncle Robert is waiting to hear if you are better,” he said.