When the long corridor was reached, with babyish inconsequence, Caroline's small burden elected to go to his strong arms, and he carried her right into the nursery.
"Can you manage quite alone?" he asked, as this haven was reached, so cosy and quiet and warm. "Won't you have a maid or some one to help you?"
But Caroline shook her head, and so, with a parting kiss to the child, he turned away.
At the door he paused.
"If you see Camilla, will you say that I entreat her not to come down unless she is much better? I understand she sat up nearly all night with Lady Pamela, and she is not strong enough to do these sort of things. She wants nursing herself."
Caroline frowned sharply, and made no reply; indeed, she was so silent during the preparations for the bath that Baby made loud complaint; she wanted her story and her usual lullaby songs. It was long before the girl's composure returned to her.
As she sat rocking the sleepy child in front of the fire, she took herself to task a second time that day.
"This should be nothing to me; it can be nothing," she said. But she knew they were empty words, even as she whispered them to herself. Where these two people were concerned, she had passed far beyond the range of indifference.