His eyelids drooped heavily, and he passed his hand across his forehead with a gesture that went to her heart.
"It's rather soon to judge, isn't it?" she said.
"Yes," he admitted. "But there is a change in her; there is an undoubted change. She gets hardly any rest, and the usual draught at night scarcely takes effect. Of course the place is noisy. That may have something to do with it. My brother is very anxious to put a stop to the sleeping-draught altogether. But I can't agree to that. She has never slept naturally since her loss—never slept and never wept. Biddy—the old nurse—declares if she could only cry, all would come right. But I don't know—I don't know."
He uttered a deep sigh, and leaned once more upon the balustrade.
Dinah came close to him, her sweet face full of concern. "Mr. Studley," she murmured, "you—you don't think I do her any harm, do you?"
"You!" He gave a start and looked at her with that in his eyes that reassured her in a moment. "My dear child, no! You are a perfect godsend to her—and to me also, if you don't mind my saying so. No—no! The mischief that I fear will probably develop after you have gone. As long as you are here, I am not afraid for her. Yours is just the sort of influence that she needs."
"Oh, thank you!" Dinah said gratefully. "I was afraid just for a moment, because I know I have been silly and flighty. I try to be sober when I am with her, but—"
"Don't try to be anything but yourself, Miss Bathurst!" he said. "I have confided in you just because you are yourself; and I wouldn't have you any different for the world. You help her just by being yourself."
Dinah laughed while she shook her head. "I wish I were as nice as you seem to think I am."
He laughed also. "Perhaps you have never realized how nice you really are," he returned with a simplicity equal to her own. "Ah! Here comes Isabel! I expect she is ready. We had better go in."