Scott glanced up at him--a swift, surprised glance. "With me? Nothing. I
am--as usual."
Eustace's hawk-eyes scanned him closely. "I've never seen you look
worse," he said.
Scott raised his shoulder slightly under his hand, and said nothing. The
first involuntary kindliness of greeting passed wholly away, as if it had
not been.
Eustace linked the hand in his arm as they walked. "Tell me about her!"
he said.
"About Isabel?" Scott spoke with very obvious constraint. "There isn't
much to tell. She is just--going. These breathless attacks come very
frequently, and she is weaker after each one. The doctor says it would
not be surprising if she went in her sleep, or in fact at any time."
"And she asked for me?" The question fell curtly; Eustace was looking
straight ahead up the white, dusty road as he uttered it.
"Yes; she wanted you." Equally curtly came Scott's reply. He ignored the
hand on his arm, limping forward at his own pace and leaving his brother
to accommodate himself to it as best he could.
Sir Eustace sauntered beside him in silence for a space. They were
approaching the heath-clad common that gave the place its name, when he
spoke again.
"And Dinah?" he said then.
Again Scott glanced upwards, his pale eyes very resolute. "Yes, Dinah is
still here. Her people seem quite indifferent as to what becomes of her,
and Isabel wishes to keep her with her.
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