"I am always tired, Esther. That is in the condition of things."
He sank back into his chair as if he were too weary to keep out of it. Then, with a flash of the old Gerald Wyndham in his eyes and manner, he sprang up.
"I was forgetting myself. Will you sit here!"
"What do you take me for, Mr.—Brother Jerome, I mean. I have come up here to see you eat, to see you rest, and to—to—talk to you."
"Esther, I have no words to thank you. You are, yes, you are the noblest woman I know."
She flushed all over; her eyes shone.
"And isn't that thanks for ever and ever?" she said in a voice in which passion trembled.
Wyndham did not notice. He had taken off his hat, and Cherry's good supper stood by his side. He ate a little, then put down his knife and fork.
"Ain't you hungry, sir?"
"No. At first, when I came here, I was so starved that I never could eat enough. Now I am the other way, not hungry at all."