“I understand,” she went on, “that you don’t like me to be here, and would rather I left off helping to nurse you?”
This time the right hand was unmistakably raised an inch or so.
“I have no right to offer any objection,” resumed Mabel, “but I don’t think you need have left Dr Tighe to tell me about it. I suppose I ought to have known that I had treated you too badly for you ever to care for me again.”
The left hand was shaken two or three times with pathetic vehemence.
“Then some one has told you,” indignantly, “how old and wretched I am beginning to look. Even Flora confesses it—I made her tell me—but she said she loved me just the same. I said I shouldn’t mind it, if it didn’t prevent my friends caring for me—and there were one or two to whom I felt sure it would make no difference. I never thought that you—— No, you are not to touch that bandage,” intercepting a feeble movement of one hand towards the eyes. “Do you want to be blind? But it’s better as it is,” with a heavy sigh—“better that we should part now. I mean, I couldn’t bear you to think me ugly.”
Again the left hand was shaken vehemently.
“Do you mean that it isn’t that? Then there’s only one other thing it can possibly be. You don’t believe I can be faithful, though you can; and you haven’t realised that it’s just this accident of yours which removes my objection to you. You know I said you would look so dreadfully young compared with me. Well, no one can say that now. You will look like a battered veteran, and though I have gone off so dreadfully, I shall look quite youthful beside you. Do you understand?”
The right hand was lifted somewhat doubtfully.
“I’m glad of that. Because, you see, I have told people that we are engaged, and it would be such a very uncomfortable thing if I had to contradict it. Now listen. Flora and I have agreed that I am not Queen Mab any longer, but if you agree it will be very rude.” Up came the left hand with alacrity. “That’s right; then I am still Queen Mab to you, and I lay my commands on you that this sort of thing is not to happen again. I mean to help nurse you, whether you like it or not, and you will get well much sooner if you make up your mind to like it. But even if you don’t, I won’t give you up.”
Both hands were raised, with an imploring gesture, and Mabel took them in her own, and hid her face in them.