"Well enough," answered Marion, shortly, not to say rudely.
"You heard that Therese was better? Have you had a pleasant afternoon?"
"I don't know—yes, I suppose so. Everybody seemed to think it was very nice, so I suppose it was," said Marion.
"My dear child, what is the matter?" asked Christian, seeing that Marion was just ready to cry.
"Nothing, Aunt Christian," answered Marion, "only I am so tired I don't know what I am about." Marion's voice failed.
"There! Never mind the work," said Aunt Baby. "Go and sit down with Therese. She is asleep now, and won't notice if you go in softly. The minute she wakes or shows signs of waking, come and call me."
"I don't know about that arrangement, Barbara," said the doctor, doubtfully. "Marion, be sure you call me the moment she stirs. Above all, don't let her say a word; watch her every minute, and the moment she shows signs of waking, call me."
"Uncle Duncan thinks I am a fool, as every one else does," said Marion to herself as she took her seat by the bedside. "Just as if I had never done anything for sick people!"
To do Marion justice, she was always ready to help in cases of sickness and was in general a very good nurse, but she did not quite appreciate the importance of the present occasion, and she was thinking more of herself than her patient. Therese slept very quietly for nearly an hour. Then she opened her eyes and fixed them on Marion with a wondering and puzzled expression. Marion did not observe her, being at that moment deeply engaged with the heiress of McGregor.
Presently Therese spoke.