After the heat of the day to lie
here in the coolness, with the night breeze fanning her hair, tickling
her bare feet and arms, was very delightful. Several times she pressed
her hands tight down on the mattress and once she pinched herself. She
seemed, in her exhilaration, to be losing weight; she would not have
been surprised, if she had found herself floating away to have a real,
close-hand look at the Southern Cross. She had no idea what was going on
in Louis's mind. No kindly angel whispered to her that she should go in,
now, for "swounds and vapours," and thus bolster up the protectiveness
that had come to birth within him that night. She knew nothing of
"swounds and vapours." The rather hard women on Lashnagar were never ill
and weak until they were ready to drop into death. Aunt Janet had never
been weak save in the matter of the acid drops. She certainly felt
thrilled rather than weak. She had something of contempt for the
weakness of women. She was very fond of Mrs. King, but her constant
complaints about Mr. King's badness and her aching back did not seem to
Marcella to be quite playing the game. Mrs. King had solemnly advised
her, several times, to make Louis think she was not well. When she had
seen her carrying pails of coal quite easily up the stairs she had said,
with a shudder:
"Oh, kid--you make my back ache to see you! Why don't you let him do
those jobs? You ought to lay down on the bed and tell him you feel
queer.
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