"Only a little pale," he replied; "all children are when teething, I suppose."
They went into the next room and sat down, leaving the door ajar.
"The doctor was here again," began Mariana, playing with the folds of her gown. "June is the dangerous month—he says so."
Algarcife raised his eyes and looked at her.
"I wrote to Father Speares to-day," he said.
For a moment Mariana was silent, a flush rising to her brow. Then she rose and came over to his side, putting her arms about his neck.
"My poor love," she murmured. Anthony drew her down upon the sofa beside him.
"It was tough," he said, slowly, "but—how I hate to tell you, Mariana!—there is something else."
Mariana flinched sharply.
"Surely he has not refused?" she exclaimed.