“He doesn’t love me,” she moaned, her tears redoubling.
Presently there was a knock at the door.
“Who is it?” she cried.
The handle was turned and Miss Glover came in, red with nervousness.
“Forgive me for coming in, Bertha. But I thought you seemed unwell. Can’t I do something for you?”
“Oh, I’m all right,” said Bertha, drying her tears, “Only the heat upset me and I’ve got a headache.”
“Shall I send Edward to you?”
“What do I want with Edward?” replied Bertha, petulantly. “I shall be all right in five minutes. I often have attacks like this.”
“I’m sure he didn’t mean to say anything unkind. He’s kindness itself, I know.”
Bertha flushed. “What on earth do you mean, Fanny? Who didn’t say anything unkind?”