“No, Hartley.”
“Hah! That’s a good job. It was hard work and painful; but I nipped that in the bud.”
Mary was silent, and looked at her brother uneasily.
“Well, what is it, dear? Not comfortable?”
“Yes, Hartley, I am quite comfortable,” said Mary, smiling sadly.
“But you looked at me in a peculiar way. You don’t believe that Leo thinks about him now?”
“I don’t know, Hartley. I am not sure.”
“Oh! but I am. It’s all right, my dear. The girl’s ideas are quite changed now, and I am beginning to be hopeful that she thinks a little of North. Why, my dear Mary, how ghastly pale you do look to-day. Are you worse?”
“No, no, dear; indeed no. I—I fancy I am getting better.”
“That’s right; but I am trespassing on you by talking too much. How thoughtless man can be!”