What if
this headache meant simple dislike to him, and to his modes of life?
"It is nothing of that sort," said Lady Laura, impatient at having
her ailment inquired into with so much accuracy.
"Then what is it? You cannot think that I can be happy to hear you
complaining of headache every day,--making it an excuse for absolute
idleness."
"What is it that you want me to do?" she said, jumping up from her
seat. "Set me a task, and if I don't go mad over it, I'll get through
it. There are the account books. Give them to me. I don't suppose I
can see the figures, but I'll try to see them."
"Laura, this is unkind of you,--and ungrateful."
"Of course;--it is everything that is bad. What a pity that you did
not find it out last year! Oh dear, oh dear! what am I to do?" Then
she threw herself down upon the sofa, and put both her hands up to
her temples.
"I will send for Dr. Macnuthrie at once," said Mr. Kennedy, walking
towards the door very slowly, and speaking as slowly as he walked.
"No;--do no such thing," she said, springing to her feet again and
intercepting him before he reached the door. "If he comes I will not
see him. I give you my word that I will not speak to him if he comes.
You do not understand," she said; "you do not understand at all.
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