“I will tell you exactly,” said Hebe, “for I know you care.”
And she gave him a rapid resumé of the whole. It had ended in an operation being decided upon, in the anticipation of which she was already under a course of treatment.
“We are going back to Germany in a fortnight,” she said. “It is to be in about a month or six weeks from now. The Marths can’t stay with me all the time, but when Josephine leaves, Aunt Grace will come; and if all goes well—or, indeed, in any case—I hope to be back at East Moddersham some time in October. But what I wanted to see you about. Archie, was to ask you to look after Norman. He is so miserable, and it is much better for us not to be together. It breaks my heart to see him, and he says it breaks his heart to see me.”
“What can I do?” said Archie.
“I thought,” said Hebe, with some hesitation—“I thought perhaps, if it didn’t interfere too much with your own plans, you might propose taking him off to Norway, or something like that.”
Archie did not at once reply.
“You are such very old friends, you know,” said Hebe. “I wouldn’t ask such a thing only for my own sake.”
There was just a touch of hurt feeling in her tone. She had been so sure of the heartiest response from him. She was changed—her happy, almost childlike confidence seemed to have deserted her, and as Archie glanced up at her pale face, he felt disgusted with himself for his even momentary hesitation.
“My dear Hebe,” he exclaimed, “as if I wouldn’t do far more than that, for you as well as for Norman! I was just considering if I could explain everything to you! But I can’t just yet. Of course you may count upon me for Norway. I will set about it at once, and plan it so that Norman shall not in the least suspect that you had suggested it.”
“Oh, thank you,” said Hebe, in a tone of great relief.