"Do sit down, Miss Ogden, _please_. I hope you had a good journey?"
"Yes, thank you."
The matron looked at her watch. "Your train must have been unusually
punctual; I always think the trains are so very bad on that line.
However, you've been fortunate."
"Yes, we were only five minutes late."
"You don't find it stuffy in here, do you? I cannot persuade the maids
to leave the window open."
"No, I don't feel hot--I think you wanted to speak to me about Milly."
"Milly; oh, yes--I thought--the doctor wanted me to tell you----"
"That my sister is in consumption? I was afraid it was so, from your
letter."
Miss Jackson moistened her lips. "Oh, my dear, I hope my letter was not
too abrupt! You mustn't run ahead of trouble; our doctor is nervous
about future possibilities if great care is not used--but your sister's
lungs are sound so far, he _thinks_."
"Then I disagree with him," said Joan.
Miss Jackson felt a little shocked. Evidently this was a very sensible
young woman, not to say almost heartless; still it was better than if
she had broken down. "We all hope, we all believe, that Milly will soon
be quite well again," she said, "but, as you know, I expect, she's
rather frail. I should think that she must always have been delicate;
and yet what a student! A wonderful student; they're all heart-broken at
the College." There was real feeling in her voice as she continued: "I
can't tell you what an admiration I have for your sister; her pluck is
phenomenal; she's worked steadily, overworked in fact, up to the last."
Joan got up; she felt a little giddy and put her hand on the back of the
chair to steady herself.
"My dear, wait, I must get you some sal-volatile!"
"Oh, no, no, please not; I really don't feel ill. I should like to go to
Milly now and help her to collect her luggage, if I may."
"Of course; come with me."
They mounted interminable stairs to the rooms that Milly shared with
Harriet. A sound of laughing reached them through the half-open door. It
was Milly's laugh.
"She's very brave and cheerful, poor child," Miss Jackson whispered.
Joan followed her into the study.
"Here's your sister, Milly dear."
Milly looked up from the strap of her violin case. "Hullo, Joan! This is
jolly, isn't it?"
Joan kissed her and shook hands with Harriet.
"I'll leave you now," said Miss Jackson, obviously anxious to get away.
Harriet raised her eyebrows. "_Vieille grue_!" she remarked, scarcely
below her breath.
Milly laughed again, she seemed easily amused, and Joan scrutinized her
closely. She was painfully thin and the laugh was a little husky;
otherwise she looked much as usual at that moment. Joan's heart beat
more freely; supposing it were a false alarm after all? Suppose it
should be only a matter of a month or two, at most, before Milly would
be quite well again and she herself free?
"How do you feel?" she inquired with ill-concealed anxiety.
"Oh, pretty fit, thank you. I think it's all rot myself. I suppose Old
Scout informed you that I was going into a decline, but I beg to differ.
A few weeks at Seabourne will cure me all right. Good Lord! I should
just think so!" and she made a grimace.
Harriet began humming a sort of vocal five-finger exercise; Joan glared
at her. Damn the woman! Couldn't she keep quiet?