He looked at her, his blood-shot eyes dizzy with pain.
“I’m not over well,” he said. “My head——”
“I’ll bring your breakfast here,” said Temperance and departed. He sat down upon the porch step and leaned against the pillar, the same against which Vashti had stood that night in the after-glow. The thought was pleasant, but it was better to open his eyes and see standing before him, strong and calm, the Queen of his dreams.
“Don’t rise,” she said. “Is it your head?”
“Yes,” he said, half closing his eyes again, for her form seemed to be reeling across his vision. “Yes.”
“What do you do for these headaches?” asked Vashti.
“Oh, bromides and endurance,” he said.
“Well—wait till you breakfast and I’ll try it I can cure it,” said Vashti. “Here is Temperance coming.”
Temperance and her tray arrived at the moment. Temperance put it down on the step and went down the sandy garden paths whilst he ate, pulling up a weed there, straightening a flower here. Mabella came out to the porch, or rather came and stood in the wide doorway a moment. Mabella had on her pink dress—at that time in the morning! Vashti’s eyes grew sombre for an instant; she liked battle, but not presumption, and surely if, from whatever motive, she chose to smile upon Sidney, it was not for Mabella to oppose herself and her charms to her will.
Temperance came back for the tray, which she found untouched, save for the tea which Sidney had drunk so eagerly.