That instantly reassured her. Mood after mood, as Michael saw, were
passing like shadows over her mind.
"Ah, that's enough!" she said. "Good-bye, Miss--there! the name's gone
again! But won't you sit here and have a talk to Michael, and let him
show you over the house to see if you like it against the time--Oh,
Michael said I mustn't worry you about that. And won't you stop and have
dinner with us, and afterwards we can sing."
Michael put his arm around her.
"We'll talk about that while you're resting," he said. "Don't keep Nurse
Baker waiting any longer, mother."
She nodded and smiled.
"No, no; mustn't keep anybody waiting," she said. "Your father taught me
to be punctual."
When they had left the room together, Sylvia turned to Michael.
"Michael, my dear," she said, "I think you are--well, I think you are
Michael."
She saw that at the moment he was not thinking of her at all, and her
heart honoured him for that.
"I'm anxious about my mother to-night," he said. "She has been so--I
suppose you must call it--well all day, but the nurse isn't easy about
her."
Suddenly all his fears and his fatigue and his trouble looked out of his
eyes.
"I'm frightened," he said, "and it's so unutterably feeble of me.
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