“I am so sorry about poor Augusta!” said Kitty.
“What about her?” said Uncle Peter.
“She has gone to bed with a bad headache; she says she is not to be disturbed. Oh! there is Nancy.—Come right over here, Nancy, and tell us about the bird.”
“The bird is quite well,” answered Nancy.
Her pretty face was pale, and there were big dark shadows under her eyes. Uncle Peter stretched out his hand and made room for her to seat herself near him.
“Has the wrong been put right?” he whispered.
She coloured and looked up at him.
“No,” she answered slowly, speaking almost into his ear. “But the wrong is not more wrong than it was this morning.”
“What a conundrum!” he said, with a laugh; but his laugh was uneasy, and he looked seriously at the child.
“There is something more the matter with her than I had any idea of,” was his thought.