He kissed her with the warmth of renewed understanding. "That's why Jake's so beastly worried about you. Poor old boy! He's getting as lean as Chops. Have you noticed?"
She had not. They sat down together on an ottoman near the window, Bunny's arm protectingly around her.
"He sent me up after you in such a hurry because he was afraid you were going to cry," he went on. "He was furious with me for vexing you. Poor old Jake!"
A curious little pang of resentment went through her. "You seem to think he is very much to be pitied," she said.
"I do," said Bunny instantly. "He looks so down in the mouth nowadays. I saw it directly I came home. He's got a sort of hurt look at the back of his eyes, as if he wasn't getting on with himself. I sometimes wish you'd be a bit kinder to him, Maud. I'm sure he mopes."
This was a point of view so new to Maud that she hardly knew how to regard it. Somehow it had never occurred to her that Jake could take her attitude to heart, Jake who trampled down all rebellion with so merciless a heel. She had always told herself that Jake had all he really wanted. That he was aware of any need of the spirit she had never seriously believed. Bunny's assertion brought to mind Mrs. Wright's kindly assurance that there was a whole lot of reserve in Jake; and for the first time the old woman's words recurred to her. "He won't show you his heart so long as he thinks you've no use for it." Was there a measure of truth in those words? She wondered. She wondered.
"Guess I must be going," said Bunny. "I've got to have a bath. You might turn on the water for me like a brick while I go and undress."
There was subtle tact in the suggestion. Bunny knew--none better--that to wait upon him was his sister's dearest privilege, and he judged by her sad face that it was time to change her thoughts.
When he arrived in the bath-room a few minutes later, he found everything put ready for his comfort, and Maud waiting to turn off the water at his command. He was attired in a large bath towel which he held artistically draped about his person. He thrust a bare, warm arm about her neck.
"Thanks, old girl. You're jolly decent to me! I don't know how I managed to be such a beast. Guess my temper must have got warped in its youth. By the way, there's a letter for you from Charlie on my dressing-table. He told me to give it to you when we were alone. I suppose it's something to do with the mother's affairs."