But it was Scott who succeeded with the utmost gentleness in discovering the trouble. He came in late in the morning and sat down beside her for a few minutes.
"I have been writing letters for my brother," he said in his quiet way, "or I should have called for news of you sooner. Isabel tells me you have had a bad night."
Dinah's face was flushed and her eyes very bright. "I heard the dance-music in the distance," she said nervously. "It—it made me want to go and dance."
"I am sorry it disturbed you," he said gently. "It was only that then?
You weren't really troubled about anything?"
She hesitated, then, meeting the kindness of his look, her eyes suddenly filled with tears. She turned her head away in silence.
He leaned towards her. "Is there anything you want?" he said. "Tell me what it is! I will get it for you if it is humanly possible."
"I know—I know!" faltered Dinah, and hid her face in the pillow.
He waited a moment or two, then laid a very gentle hand upon her dark head. "Don't cry, little one!" he said softly. "Tell me what it is!"
"I can't," murmured Dinah.
"You wanted to go and dance," said Scott sympathetically. "Was it just that?"