"Really not? I've thought of that ever since. I've never got your face that night out of my head. What had happened? While I was away—what had happened?"
"Nothing—nothing had happened," said Priscilla hastily. "I was tired. I had a mood. I get them, you know. I get angry easily. Then I like to be alone till I'm sorry."
"But what had made you angry? Had I—?"
"No, never. You have never been anything but good and kind. You've been our protecting spirit since we came here."
Tussie laughed shrilly, and immediately was seized by a coughing fit. Lady Shuttleworth stood at the foot of the bed watching him with a face from which happiness seemed to have fled for ever. Priscilla grew more and more wretched, caught, obliged to stand there, distractedly stroking his hands in her utter inability to think of anything else to do.
"A nice protecting spirit," gasped Tussie derisively, when he could speak. "Look at me here, tied down to this bed for heaven knows how long, and not able to do a thing for you."
"But there's nothing now to do. We're quite comfortable. We are really. Do, do believe it."
"Are you only comfortable, or are you happy as well?"
"Oh, we're very happy," said Priscilla with all the emphasis she could get into her voice; and again she tried, quite unsuccessfully, to wrench her mouth into a smile.
"Then, if you're happy, why do you look so miserable?"