"I don't know—why? Do you think she looks ill?"
"Don't you?"
"Yes."
"I was quite shocked to-day. I always feel interested in that child, and I should be dreadfully anxious if she belonged to me."
"Well, she's at a difficult age, you know."
"Oh, my dear, it's more than that; have you been letting her work too hard?"
"Oh!" said Elizabeth violently, "I'm sick to death of being asked that; of course she works too hard, but it isn't that, it's——"
"Yes?" queried Mrs. Benson.
"It's—oh! I don't know, Mrs. Benson, I can't put it into words, but it's an awful responsibility, somehow; I can't tell you how it worries me." Her voice shook.
Mrs. Benson patted her hand reassuringly. "Whatever it is, it's got on your nerves too, Elizabeth."