“Ah, but you’re a man!” she remarked lightly, though two tears fell down her cheeks.
With an effort she recovered herself. “It’s time for your tonic,” she added, and she busied herself with giving it to him. “As soon as you have taken it, I’m going for a walk, so you must make up your mind to have some sleep.”
“Am I to be left alone?” he asked, with an assumed grievance in his voice.
“Madame Bulteel will stay with you,” she replied.
“Do you need a walk so very badly?” he asked presently.
“I don’t suppose I need it, but I want it,” she answered. “My feet and the earth are very friendly.”
“Where do you walk?” he asked.
“Just anywhere,” was her reply. “Sometimes up the river, sometimes down, sometimes miles away in the woods.”
“Do you never take a gun with you?”
“Of course,” she answered, nodding, as though he could see. “I get wild pigeons and sometimes a wild duck or a prairie-hen.”