Now, in good truth, William had no covert meaning in giving this answer. The words rose to his lips, and he spoke them lightly. Perhaps he could have given a very different one, had he been compelled to speak out the inmost feeling of his heart. Strange, however, was the effect on Henry Ashley. He grasped William's arm with emotion, and pulled his face down to him as he lay.
"What do you say? What do you mean?"
"I mean nothing in particular. Anna is here."
"You shall not evade me," gasped Henry. "I must have it out, now or later. What is it that you mean?"
William stood, almost confounded. Henry was evidently in painful excitement; every vestige of colour had forsaken his sensitive countenance, and his white hands shook as they held William.
"What do you mean?" William whispered. "I said nothing to agitate you thus, that I am aware of. Are we at cross-purposes?"
A spot, bright as carmine, began to flush into the invalid's pale cheeks, and he moved his face so that the light did not fall upon it.
"I'll have it out, I say. What is Anna Lynn to you?"
"Nothing," answered William, a smile parting his lips.
"What is she to you?" reiterated Henry, his tone painfully earnest.