Part 20 (2/2)
”But do you think anything _is_ the matter?” she questioned anxiously.
”I don't think, I know,” remarked Trix succinctly.
Miss Tibb.u.t.t took off her spectacles.
”But she is so bright,” she said.
Trix nodded emphatically.
”That's just it. She's too bright. Oh, one can overdo the merry light-hearted role, I a.s.sure you. And then, to a new-comer at all events, the cloak becomes apparent. But haven't you the smallest idea?”
Miss Tibb.u.t.t shook her head.
”Not the least,” she announced. ”I fancied one evening shortly after she returned here, that something was a little wrong. I remember I asked her.
She talked about soap-bubbles and cobwebs but said there weren't any left.”
”Of which,” smiled Trix. ”Soap-bubbles or cobwebs?”
”Oh, cobwebs,” said Miss Tibb.u.t.t earnestly. ”Or was it both? She said,--yes, I remember now just what she did say--she said that a pretty bubble had burst and become a cobweb. And when I asked her if the cobweb were bothering her, she said both it and the bubble had vanished. So, you see!” This last on a note of triumph.
”Hmm,” said Trix ruminative, dubious. ”Bubbles have a way of taking up more s.p.a.ce than one would imagine, and their bursting sometimes leaves an unpleasant gap. The bursting of this one has left a gap in Pia's life.
You haven't, by any chance, the remotest notion of its colour?”
”Its colour?” queried Miss Tibb.u.t.t.
Trix laughed. ”Nonsense, Tibby, angel, nonsense pure and simple. But all the same, I wish I knew for dead certain.”
”So do I,” said Miss Tibb.u.t.t anxiously, though she hadn't the smallest notion what advantage a knowledge of the colour would be to either one of them.
Trix dabbed the stump of her cigarette on the table.
”Well, don't let her know we think there's anything wrong. If you want to remain wrapped up in the light-hearted cloak, nothing is more annoying than having any one prying to see what's underneath,--unless it's the right person, of course. And we're not sure that we are--yet. We must just wait till she feels like giving us a peep, if she ever does.”
A silence fell. Miss Tibb.u.t.t took up her knitting again. Trix hummed a little air from a popular opera. Presently Miss Tibb.u.t.t sighed. Trix left off humming.
”What's the matter, Tibby?”
Miss Tibb.u.t.t sighed more deeply. ”I'm afraid it's my fault,” she said.
”What's your fault?” demanded Trix.
”I've not noticed Pia. I thought everything was all right after what she said. I ought to have noticed. I've been too wrapped up in my own affairs. Perhaps if I'd been more sympathetic I should have found out what was the matter.”
Trix laughed, a happy amused, comfortable little laugh.
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