“Did he take trouble to do all that?” she asked, slowly and wistfully.
“Trouble!” cried Ingram. “He appears to me neither to eat nor sleep day or night, but to go wandering about in search of you in every place where he fancies you may be. I never saw a man so beside himself with anxiety.”
“I did not wish to make him anxious,” said Sheila in a low voice, “Will you tell him that I am well?”
Mrs. Lavender began to smile. Were there not evident signs of softening? But Ingram, who knew the girl better, was not deceived by these appearances. He could see that Sheila merely wished that her husband should not suffer pain on her account; that was all.
“I was about to ask you,” he said gently, “what I may say to him. He comes to me continually, for he has always fancied that you would communicate with me. What shall I say to him, Sheila?”
“You may tell him that I am well,” she answered.
Mairi had by this time stepped out of the room. Sheila sat with her eyes fixed on the floor, her fingers working nervously with a paper knife she held.
“Nothing more than that?” he said.
“Nothing more.”
He saw by her face, and he could tell by the sound of her voice, that her decision was resolute.