“Oh,” said Helen, relieved that she had not been anticipated, and resuming her former position.
“Of course he was as mistaken about your being unhappy as he was about your being ill,” Armstrong continued, his remark being half assertion and half question.
Helen made no response. He waited a moment or two, glancing at her furtively, and then put his question more directly.
“You are not unhappy, are you?”
Helen tried to fathom the motive which underlay this question. At last Jack had become conscious of the fact that he had hurt her and was endeavoring to make amends. This was like him; what he had said and done during the weeks past was not like him. Now something which Uncle Peabody had said had brought him to himself again. He saw a duty to perform, and he assumed it conscientiously; but it was an act of duty rather than an act of love—she felt that in every word he spoke.
“Yes, Jack,” she finally admitted, “I am very unhappy.”
Armstrong was annoyed. “I really thought you were stronger, Helen,” he said, petulantly. “It is all over this library work, I suppose.”
“I am not strong,” replied Helen, quietly. “That is where the whole trouble lies. I am wofully weak, and I only wish that you and I had discovered it sooner.”
“How would that have helped matters any?”
“If we had discovered it before we were married it would have helped matters a great deal,” said Helen, with decision. “As we did not do that we must accept things as they are until we can find a solution of the problem.”