She was bound to admit that last truth now, though for weeks she had tried to hate him, and had blamed him for the death of both her parents.
She turned the pillow over and tried to sleep.
"I don't care. I wish I could be free. I don't care," she told herself, but when at last she fell asleep it was to dream of her husband as he had been during the first days of their acquaintance; to dream of the kindliness of his eyes and the clasp of his hand, and her own feeling of warmth and gratitude towards him.
She woke in the morning unrefreshed, and with a bad headache. She dreaded meeting Peg, but she need not have done, for Peg greeted her as if nothing had happened, with a kiss and her usual cheery, "Hullo, Faith! Had a bad night? You look pale enough."
"I had a very good night," Faith answered emphatically. "And I'm ever so hungry."
But at breakfast she ate nothing, and Digby watched her with concerned eyes.
"We've rushed you about too much lately," he said. "You're not strong like Miss Fraser."
"Me! Oh, I'm as strong as a horse," Peg said cheerfully. "Nothing ever tires me!"
Forrester looked across at her and laughed, and Faith clenched her hands in her lap.