he
dining-room and began setting the table with the pretty blue-flowered
ware that her mother had been so proud of. She seemed to feel tears
in her heart when she laid the plates, but none sprang to her eyes.
Somehow, handling these familiar inanimate things was the acutest
torture. Presently she smelled eggs burning. She realized that her
father was burning up the eggs, in his utter ignorance of cookery.
She thought privately that she didn't believe but she could cook the
eggs, but she dared not go out in the kitchen. Her father, in his
anxiety, had actually reached ferocity. He had always petted her, in
his easy-going fashion, now he terrified her. She dared not go out
there.

All at once, as she was getting the clean napkins from the sideboard,
she heard the front door open, and one of the neighbors, Mrs. Jonas
White, entered without knocking. She was a large woman and carelessly
dressed, but her great face was beaming with kindness and pity.

"I just heard how bad your ma was," she said, in a loud whisper, "an'
I run right over. I thought mebbe--How is she?"

"She is very sick," replied Maria. She felt at first an impulse to
burst into tears before this broadside of sympathy, then she felt
stiff.

"You are as white as a sheet," said Mrs. White. "Who is burnin' eggs
out there?" She pointed to the kitchen.

"Father."

"Lord! Who's up-stairs?"

"Miss Bell and the doctors. They've sent for Aunt Maria, but she
can't come before afternoon."

Mrs. White fastened a button on her waist. "Well, I'll stay till
then," said she. "Lillian can get along all right." Lillian was Mrs.
White's eighteen-year-old daughter.

Mrs. White opened the kitchen door. "How is she?" she said in a
hushed voice to Harry Edgham, frantically stirring the burned eggs,
which sent up a monstrous smoke and smell. As she spoke, she went
over to him, took the frying-pan out of his hands, and carried it
over to the sink.

"She is a very sick woman," replied Harry Edgham, looking at Mrs.
White with a measure of gratitude.

"You've got Dr. Williams and Miss Bell, Maria says?"

"Yes."

"Maria says her aunt is coming?"

"Yes, I sent a telegram."

"Well, I'll stay till she gets here," said Mrs. White, and again that
expression of almost childish gratitude came over the man's face.
Mrs. White began scraping the burned eggs off the pan.

"They haven't had any breakfast," said Harry, looking upward.

"And they don't dare leave her?"

"No.