"He's afraid I'll kiss him. Don't grip my hand that way; it hurts.
You couldn't be jealous of a boy! Besides, I _don't_ kiss him any
more. I never have kissed him but that once--no, twice, when I told
him that I was going to be his sister."
"You told him that?" Hugh's voice had an odd anxiety. "How did he
take it?"
"I don't think he was very enthusiastic. He loves you so much, Hugh;
you are the very heart of his universe, and I suppose he is jealous
of your love for me. Since then he's avoided me and is as dumb as
a fish when I talk to him. I think his body has outgrown his mind,
Hugh."
"Perhaps. I don't know," he answered.
"And Bella is so silent, too. Hugh, it must have been a lonely life
for you before I came. Those two people, though they love you so much,
are not companionable. I think, Hugh, that they aren't able to
understand you. You are so brilliant, and they are so dull; you are
so articulate, and they are so dumb; you are so warm, so quick to
see, to feel, to sympathize, while they are so slow and so cold. Dear
Hugh, I'm glad I came. I am stupid myself, but I have enough
intelligence to understand you--a little, haven't I, dear?"
"So much more than enough!" The low speech with its tremor of humility
was almost lost.
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