Lissa arose and came forward to meet them with extended hands, then her eyes followed Tibby’s about the disordered room. A flush of color came faintly into her cheeks.
“I—am about as usual, thank you,� she said to Mark, then apologetically to Tibby: “Neoka has neglected the work to-day. She wanted a holiday and I let her off, and have not attended to it myself.�
“Are you not well, Mrs. Bartram?� asked Tibby.
“No—that is, I am better than I was,� she stammered, looking at Tibby in an embarrassed way.
“You ought to be out in this lovely sunshine. Don’t you think so, Mr. Cramer?�
“Yes, indeed. There’s life and health in every gleam, thanksgiving to the sun,� misquoted Mark, and he touched his hat and turned away.
“I have a headache,� began Lissa.
“Which I can rid you of in short order,� cried Tibby. “Did Mrs. Wylie never tell you what a good doctor I am? I can always cure her headaches in a moment. May I try upon you?�
Mrs. Bartram signified her assent, and Tibby stepped to her side and began to rub her head, talking the while in her low, rich tones.
“You are to stop thinking about anything and let your head rest easily against the back of the chair. I will take the pain here and carry it away on the ends of my fingers—so. Ah, you are beginning to feel better already. The pain is going, now almost gone—now it is gone. Isn’t it? I do not think it will trouble you any more.�