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She felt perfectly sick at the thought, flashed upon her for the first time, that she was in the power of a servant. "Do you mean to say," said Tussie in a voice hollow with consternation, "that you've had no dinner?" "Dinner? In a cottage? Why of course there was no dinner. There never will be any dinner at night, at least. But the tragic thing is there was no supper.
Smothered?" she said, getting up quickly, her face setting into the frown that had so chilled Tussie on the heath. "But I took that as a parable." "How can I help how you took it?" And she instantly left him and went away round the tables, beginning those little pleasant observations to the children again that struck him as so strange. Well did he know the sort of thing.
At the door, it is true, he had been stirred to petulance by the foolish face and utterances of the footman James, but during the whole of the time he had been alone with Lady Shuttleworth he had behaved, he considered, with the utmost restraint and tact. Tussie offered him a cigarette. "My dear Tussie," said his mother quickly, "we will not keep Mr. Neumann-Schultz.
"Oh mother, leave me alone," cried Tussie, lying right across his pillows, his face on Priscilla's hands. "What do you know of these things? This is my darling this is my wife dream of my spirit star of my soul " "Never in this world!" cried Lady Shuttleworth, coming round to the head of the bed as quickly as her shaking limbs would take her.
Was Tussie going to turn over a new leaf after all, now that he was coming of age, and interest himself in more profitable things than verse-making? "Dearest," she said, quite touched, "he shall be seen if you think it kinder. I'll see him you haven't done breakfast yet. Show him into the library, James."
"Ach Gott, ja," he ejaculated, clapping him on the shoulder, "the poets ja, ja 'Blessings be with them and eternal praise, what? Young man," he added enthusiastically, "I could wish that you had been my son. I could indeed." And as he said it Robin Morrison coming down the street and seeing the two together and the expression on Tussie's face instantly knew that Tussie had met the niece.
Would he, only remembering she was grand ducal, regard it as an insult and want to fight Tussie? The vision of poor Tussie, weak, fevered, embedded in pillows, swathed in flannel, receiving bloodthirsty messages of defiance from Fritzing upset her into more tears. Fritzing, she felt at that moment, was a trial. He burdened her with his gigantic efforts to keep her from burdens.
Tussie was not bold like Robin. He was a gentle youth who loved quiet things, quiet places, placid people, kind dogs, books, canaries even, if they did not sing too loud. He was sensitive about himself, being small and weakly, and took, as I have said, great care of what he had of health, such care indeed that some of his robust friends called him Fussie.
Tussie was sitting up in bed with a great many pillows behind him, finding immense difficulty in breathing, when his mother, her bonnet off and every trace of having been out removed, came in and said Miss Neumann-Schultz was downstairs. "Downstairs? Here? In this house?" gasped Tussie, his eyes round with wonder and joy. "Yes. She called. Would you like her to come up and see you?" "Oh mother!"
"I'm afraid you are very unhappy," she said suddenly to Lady Shuttleworth, struck by the look on her face as she leaned back, silent, in her corner. "I do feel rather at my wits' end," said Lady Shuttleworth. "For instance, I'm wondering whether what I'm doing now isn't a great mistake." "What you are doing now?" "Taking you to see Tussie." "Oh but I promise to be cheerful.
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