“Not to-night, please, dear. I would rather not talk any more to-night, if you don’t mind my saying so.”
“Well, just as you say, of course!” said Victoria, as she got up. “I think you are very queer, though. You said you were glad to see me and that you wanted to talk about something yourself, and now, almost right away, you tell me to go! What did you want to say to me?”
“Don’t be huffy, dear! I know I did want to, but really, I can’t talk about anything more to-night. I—I have a headache.”
“Oh, you poor thing!” cried Victoria, her resentment fading at once. “Why didn’t you tell me so before? I thought you looked different from usual. Can’t I do anything for you? It was a shame for me to come and bother you, but you seemed glad to have me when I came. Shall I bathe your head with cologne?”
“No, I thank you. If I once get asleep, I shall be all right, and it is really pretty late, Vic. It is nearly twelve o’clock. You had better go to bed right away. Good night, dear.”
Honor was almost pushing her sister out of the room as she spoke, and Victoria heard her close and lock the door behind her.
“If Honor isn’t too funny!” she said to herself. “Locking me out, actually! Well, if she isn’t going to worry, there is no need of my doing so. People never do what you expect them to. Honor is certainly queer.
‘Jog on, jog on the footpath way’—
Why, how very peculiar! I am sure I didn’t leave my door open.”
She had reached her own room and paused before the open door. She had certainly not left it open, because of the draught which Sophy would have been in between it and the window. Perhaps the breeze had blown it open, and yet that did not seem possible, for the night was a still one, and it seemed to be growing warmer. She went into the room and found Sophy sitting up in bed.