‘Oh, Barbara is good to everyone! She can’t help it. Some people are born good-tempered and practical, and others are born pretty and poetical; some to be good needlewomen, others to wear smart clothes.’ ‘Tell me, Miss Eve, did anyone come near me when I met with my accident?’ ‘Your friend Martin and Barbara brought you here.’ ‘And when I was here who had to do with my clothes?’ ‘Martin undressed you whilst my sister and I got ready what was necessary for you.’ ‘And my clothes—who touched them?’ ‘After your friend Martin, only Barbara; she folded them and put them away. Why do you ask?’ Jasper sighed and put his hand to his head. Silence ensued for some time; had not he held his hand to the wound Eve would have supposed he was asleep. Now, all at once, Eve saw the cowslip ball; it was under the table, and with the point of her little foot she could touch it and roll it to her. So she played with the ball, rolling it with her feet, but so lightly that she made no noise. All at once he looked round at her. Startled, she kicked the cowslip ball away. He turned his head away again. About five minutes later she was on tiptoe, stealing across the room to where the ball had rolled. She picked it up and laid it on the pillow near Jasper’s face. He opened his eyes. They had been closed. ‘I thought,’ explained Eve, ‘that the scent of the flowers might do you good. They are somewhat bruised and so smell the stronger.’ He half nodded and closed his eyes again. Presently she plucked timidly at the sheet. As he paid no attention she plucked again. He looked at her. The bright face, like an opening wild rose, was bending over him. ‘Will it disturb you greatly if I ask you a question?’ He shook his head. ‘Who was that young man whom you called Martin?’ He looked earnestly into her eyes, and the colour mounted under the transparent skin of her throat, cheeks, and brow. ‘Eve,’ he said gravely, ‘have you ever been ill—cut, wounded’—he put out his hand and lightly indicated her heart—’there?’ She shook her pretty head with a smile. ‘Then think and ask no more about Martin. He came to you out of darkness, he went from you into darkness. Put him utterly and for ever out of your thoughts as you value your happiness.’ CHAPTER VIII. BAB.