“It is; but—frankly!” he said, with a slow, grave glance, “I was thinking more of my friend. He has had more than his share of trouble, and another spell of anxiety would be hard luck. It’s a big strain on a man to play father and mother to a growing family.”
“There is one thing which would be harder! To have no growing family to look after, and to take his mind off himself.”
He looked at me sharply, and as sharply looked away. I had a lightning impression that I had touched a tender spot, but it passed the next moment at sound of the perfectly calm, perfectly controlled voice:—
“You think that is so? I should be glad to agree, but Frank has lost an ideal companion. I did not imagine that such young children could fill the gap—”
“In a sense they never can, but they fill so many smaller gaps that it is impossible to think of the big one all the time. If you had any idea what it is to live in a flat this size, with five small children tumbling over each other all day long, laughing and quarrelling and getting into mischief on every conceivable occasion, behaving like perfect little fiends one hour and angels straight from heaven the next—well, you would realise that there isn’t much time left over to sit down and nurse a private woe!”
He smiled. He smiles, as the Scotch say, “with deefficulty”. The lines of his face are all set for gravity and reserve.
“That is so. But at night? After such a tornado the solitary evenings must seem lonelier than ever.”
“I don’t imagine there is much time for reflection. There is generally some work to keep him going. Rupert has a weakness for dropping things down the sinks. Last week, for a change, he drove a nail into a gas-pipe. And there are the bills to pay, and new things to order, and endless notes of inquiry and arrangements to be written. His evenings are well filled up.”
“I see you are a believer in counter-irritants.” The deep-set eyes rested on me with a speculative glance. A practical, unimaginative woman, who has neither understanding nor sympathy for romance—that was obviously the verdict. If he only knew! If he only knew!
Presently Mr Thorold came back and said the doctor would come round almost at once. Would I be so very good as to stay to hear his verdict? Miss Brown was not much use in cases of illness. She lost her head. The trouble to me seems to be that she has lost her heart—if she ever had one to lose!