"For you have a temperament."
Now I knew I had a temperature, but I didn't exactly know what she meant by the other thing; so I just laughed carelessly. Had she said, "You are of a sanguine or pessimistic temperament," I should have quite understood; but to say in that decided manner, "You have a temperament," simply nonplussed me. And as she evidently knew more about it than I, I didn't contradict her.
"I can see it in the colour of your gown, in the books on your table—dear, darling Omar—in the way you dress your hair."
She trod on Jumbles as she spoke. Involuntarily I put my hand to my head, but it felt all right.
"And this is such a sweet garden. You live the simple life, I suppose?"
"I live the life of an invalid," I replied; "it is bound to be simple."
"Of course, of course. I was told that you were a sufferer—most distressing."
She spoke hurriedly, as though anxious to get away from a painful subject. Did she think that I should dilate on my affliction to her? God forbid!
"I had been so hoping that you would have been one of us."
I looked at her, puzzled.