"Come down and have some tea," he said quietly; "this room is cold, but below there is a fire."
Mechanically I obeyed. I sat up, put back my loosened hair from my face, and slipped down on the floor. I followed him out, and I felt weak and giddy; I had to cling to him for support until we entered the parlour. It looked as I had so often seen it look on many a happy evening. The fire burned brightly; the lamp shed its mild, mellow radiance; the kettle sang on the fire; the white china cups and saucers stood on the little table ready for use, and Kate sat working as usual; but familiar as everything seemed, it was as if I had not entered that room for years. As we came in, Kate looked up and sighed, then made the tea in deep silence. Cornelius made me sit by the fire, and sat down by me; he handed me my cup himself; but I could not drink, still less eat. He pressed me in vain. If I could, I would have gratified him, for my abstinence proceeded not from either stubbornness or pride; I knew I should eat again, and to do it early or late could not humble or exalt me. Cornelius ceased to urge the point. The meal, always a short one with us, was over, the room was silent; I sat in an angle of the couch, my hand shading my weary eyes; perhaps my long fasting contributed to render me partly insensible to what passed around me, for Cornelius had to speak twice before he could draw my attention. When I at length looked up, I perceived that Kate had left the room; we were alone.
"Daisy," said Cornelius, very earnestly, "are you fretting?"
"Yes, Cornelius, I am."
"Do you then think me still angry with you?"
"No," I replied, rather surprised, "I know you are not."
"How do you know?" he asked, bending a keen look on me.
"You have said so, Cornelius, how then can I but believe you?"
I looked up in his face as I spoke, and if my eyes told him but half the feelings of my heart, he must have read in their gaze—"Doubt me if you like; I keep inviolate and true my faith in you." He looked as if the words had smote him dumb. For awhile he did not attempt to answer; then he observed rather abruptly—
"Well, what are you fretting about?"