"I tell you," said Philip, raising his shoulders and stooping his head over the table, "granny, that there is nothing the matter with me."
And he took no part in the conversation as they went on talking, of any subjects but those that were most near their hearts. They had, indeed, no thoughts at all to spare but those that were occupied with the situation, and with this new feature in it, Pippo's worn and troubled looks, yet had to talk of something, of nothing, while the meal went on, which was no meal at all for any of them. When it was over at last Pippo rose abruptly from the table.
"Are you going out?" Elinor said, alarmed, rising too. "Have you any engagement with the Marshalls for to-day?"
"I don't know," Philip said; "Mr. Marshall was ill yesterday. I didn't see them. I'm not going out. I am going to my room."
"You've got a headache, Pippo!"
"Nothing of the kind! I tell you there is nothing the matter with me. I'm only going to my room."
Elinor put her hands on his arm. "Pippo, I have something to say to you before you go out. Will you promise to let me know before you go out? I don't want to keep you back from anything, but I have something that I must say."
He did not ask with his usual interest what it was. He showed no curiosity; on the contrary, he drew his arm out of her hold almost rudely. "Of course," he said, "I will come in here before I go out. I have no intention of going out now."
And thus he left them, and went with a heavy step, oh, how different from Pippo's flying foot: so that they could count every step, up-stairs.
"What is the matter, what is the matter, Elinor?"