“Ill!” said Salis. “I feel disposed to go and shake him, and rouse him up. To tell him that this is not manly on his part.”
“And yet you own that he is suffering, Hartley.”
“Suffering? Yes; but he has no business to be suffering about a woman like—there, there, I am forgetting myself. Poor fellow! he must be very ill. You see, the upset came when he was worn out with the study and intricacies of that pet theory of his, and hence it is that he is now so low.”
Mary lay back with her eyes half closed for some time, and there was silence in the room.
“Where is Leo?” said Salis, at length.
“In her room—reading.”
“Thank Heaven she seems to be settling down calmly now. Surely this life-storm is past, Mary.”
“I pray that it may be, Hartley,” she said softly; but there was a shadow of doubt in her words.
“Well,” said Salis, rising, “I must go and have a look round.”
“Going out, dear?”