deprecating inquiry.

"Can't you come in, an' not stand there holdin' the door open?"
inquired Sylvia. "I feel the wind on my back, and I've got a bad pain
enough in it now."

Mrs. Barnard stepped in, and shut the door quickly, in an alarmed
way.

"Ain't you feelin' well this mornin', Sylvy?" said she.

"Oh yes, I'm feelin' well enough. It ain't any matter how I feel, but
it's a good deal how some other folks do."

Sarah Barnard sank into the rocking-chair, and sat there looking at
them hesitatingly, as if she did not dare to open the conversation.

Suddenly Sylvia arose and went out of the kitchen with a rush,
carrying a plate of Indian cake to feed the hens. "I can't set here
all day; I've got to do something," she announced as she went.

When the door had closed after her, Mrs. Barnard turned to Charlotte.

"What's the matter with her?" she asked, nodding towards the door.

"I don't know."

"She ain't sick, is she? I never see her act so. Sylvy's generally
just like a lamb. You don't s'pose she's goin' to have a fever, do
you?"