“I’ll just come and see them—it would seem rude not to go near them after all they have done for us—but I can’t leave him for long. Flora!” suddenly, “do you see anything different in me?”
“You are dreadfully pale and tired, and your dress looks as if you had put it on in a hurry, and your hair isn’t very nicely done,” said Flora hesitatingly. “Is that what you mean?”
“No—not quite. If—if you were a man, should you still think of me as Queen Mab?”
Flora hesitated still, then suddenly flew at Mabel, and kissed her with great vehemence. “What does it signify?” she demanded. “I shall love you just as well, and so will he, and lots of people will love you a great deal more. You’re just as lovely, really, as ever you were.”
“Then there is something,” cried Mabel. “What is it?”
“I—I don’t know, exactly. It’s something gone. I have noticed it going, since—I think since Mr Anstruther came back from looking for your brother. It was a sort of assurance—I can’t think of the proper word—as if you knew that every one admired you, and you had a right to their services. Yes, that was it. It took every one captive, you know, Mab.”
“And now?” asked Mabel, in a low voice.
“Now? Oh, it makes me miserable to see you. You look as if you wanted people to be kind to you, poor darling.”
“Only one person,” whispered Mabel. “Do you think he will?”
“As if you doubted him! Fraud! If he isn’t, I’ll give Fred up, and come and live with you in a hermitage. There!”