'Cardie is always a good boy, mamma,' she muttered, drowsily, at Mildred's disturbing touch. Olive was dreaming of her mother.
CHAPTER XIII
A YOUTHFUL DRACO AND SOLON
'But thoughtless words may bear a sting
Where malice hath no place,
May wake to pain some secret sting
Beyond thy power to trace.
When quivering lips, and flushing cheek,
The spirit's agony bespeak,
Then, though thou deem thy brother weak,
Yet soothe his soul to peace.'—S. A. Storrs.
Things certainly seemed at sixes and sevens, as Roy phrased it, the next morning. The severe emotions of the previous night had resulted in Olive's case in a miserable sick headache, which would not permit her to raise her head from the pillow. Mildred, who had rightly interpreted the meaning of the wistful glance that followed her to the door, had resolved to take the first opportunity of speaking to her nephews separately, and endeavouring to soften their aggrieved feelings towards their sister; by a species of good fortune she met Roy coming out of his father's room.
Roy had slept off his mighty mood, and kicked away his sullenness, and an hour of Polly's sunshiny influence had restored him to good humour; and though his brow clouded a little at his aunt's first words, and he broke into a bar of careless whistling in a low and displeased key at the notion of her meditation, yet his better feelings were soon wrought upon by a hint of Olive's sufferings, and he consented, though a little condescendingly, to be the bearer of his own embassage of peace.
Olive's heavy eyes filled up with tears when she saw him.
'Dear Rex, this is so kind.'