'You've got no aunt,' said Rebecca. 'My poor dear! And you at the
concert!'

I dropped my head and my bosom on the bare mahogany table and cried.
Never before, and never since, have I spilt such tears--hot, painful
drops, distilled plenteously from a heart too crushed and torn.

'There, there!' muttered Rebecca. 'I wish I could have told you
different--less cruel; but it wasn't in me to do it.'

'And she's lying upstairs this very moment all cold and stiff,' a wailing
voice broke in.

It was Lucy, who could not keep herself away from us.

'Will you go to your kitchen, my girl!'

Rebecca drove her off. 'And the poor thing's not stiff either. Her poor
body's as soft as if she was only asleep, and doctor says it will be for
a day or two. It's like that when they're took off like that, he says.
Oh, Miss Carlotta--'

'Tell me all about it before I go upstairs,' I said.

I had recovered.

'Your poor aunt went to bed just as soon as you were gone, miss,' said
Rebecca. 'She would have it she was quite well, only tired. I took her up
a cup of cocoa at ten o'clock, and she seemed all right, and then I sends
Lucy to bed, and I sits up in the kitchen to wait for you. Not a sound