"Nearly a week," said Theo.
"Is Mr. Oglethorpe better, or worse, than when you saw him first?"
"I do not know exactly," answered the low, humble voice. "Sometimes better—though I do not think he is ever much worse."
Another pause, and then:
"You were very brave to come so far alone."
The beautiful, dark, inconsistently, un-English face was uplifted all at once, but the next moment it dropped with a sob of actual anguish.
"Oh, Miss Gower!" the girl cried. "Don't blame me; please don't blame me. There was no one else, and the telegram said he was dying."
"Hush," said Priscilla Gower, with an inexplicable softness in her tone. "I don't blame you; I should have done the same thing in your place."
"But you—" began Theo, faintly.
Priscilla stopped her before she had time to finish her sentence; stopped her with a cold, clear, steady voice.