"I am afraid your headache has been very bad all the evening," she said penitently. "Do let me come and look after you."
She went with Letty to her room, and put her into a chair beside the wood fire, that even on this warm night was not unwelcome in the huge place. Letty, indeed, shivered a little as she bent towards it.
"Must you go so early?" said Marcella, hanging over her. "I heard Sir
George speak of the ten o'clock train."
"Oh, yes," said Letty, "that will be best."
She stared into the fire without speaking. Marcella knelt down beside her.
"You won't hate me any more?" she said, in a low, pleading voice, taking two cold hands in her own.
Letty looked up.
"I should like," she said, speaking with difficulty, "if you cared—to see you sometimes."
"Only tell me when," said Marcella, laying her lips lightly on the hands, "and I will come." Then she hesitated. "Oh, do believe," she broke out at last, but still in the same low voice, "that all can be healed! Only show him love,—forget everything else,—and happiness must come. Marriage is so difficult—such an art—even for the happiest people, one has to learn it afresh day by day."
Letty's tired eyes wavered under the other's look.