"Do you always suffer from these headaches?" he asked suddenly.
"No, not always; but they have been pretty bad lately," she returned indifferently. "I suppose the close room does it. Cara is so afraid of draughts, and so much reading does not suit me."
"I think the others ought to take their turn. I mean to tell Miss Charity so some day."
"Oh, no; pray do not," in much distress. "It does not really hurt me, not much; and Cara does so dislike Hope's reading, it is too loud and fast for an invalid."
"She must be taught to read slower then."
"Oh, no; you must not say anything about it," imploringly. "I have nothing else to do but to wait upon Cara, it is right for me to do it; and if it hurts me what does it matter? We cannot live for our own pleasure," continued Faith, walking fast and nervously, but he checked her.
"Slower, please; I had no idea you were such an energetic walker. I want to talk to you, not that you ever honor me with many words. I am not to be included in the list of your duties, eh?" with a sidelong glance of mingled fun and earnestness.
"I am afraid you have thought me very rude," in a subdued voice.
"No; I have only found you a little depressing. What's been the matter with you all this time, Miss Faith? I am an old friend, and you might be frank with me."
"There is nothing the matter," she returned in much confusion, thereby burthening her conscience with a whole falsehood. But how could she hint to him the reason of her weariness?