Edward sang only one song, and then said that he was hoarse, which was not true. But Elizabeth was glad when the door closed upon him and David, for the song Edward had sung was the one thing on earth which she felt least able to hear. He sang, O Moon of my Delight, transposed by Mary to suit his voice, and he sang it with his usual tuneful correctness.
Elizabeth looked up only once, and that was just at the end. David was looking at her with a frown of perplexity. But as Edward remarked that he was hoarse, David passed his hand across his eyes for a moment, as if to brush something away, and rose with alacrity to leave the room.
When they were gone Mary drew a chair close to her sister and sat down. She was rather silent for a time, and Elizabeth was beginning to find it hard to keep her own thoughts at bay, when Mary said in a new, gentle voice:
“Liz, I’m so happy.”
“Are you, Molly?” She spoke rather absently, and Mary became softly offended.
“Don’t you want to know why, Liz? I don’t believe you care a bit. I don’t believe you’d mind if I were ever so miserable, now that you’ve got David, and are happy yourself!”
Elizabeth came back to her surroundings.
“Oh, Molly, what a goose you are, and what a monster you make me out. What is it, Mollykins, tell me?”
“I’ve a great mind not to. I don’t believe you really care. I wouldn’t tell you a word, only I can’t help it. Oh, Liz, I’m going to have a baby, and I thought I never should. I was making myself wretched about it.”
She caught Elizabeth’s hand and squeezed it.