"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."

"Well, you just go and do anything you want to, Maria and I will get
the breakfast." Mrs. White spoke with a kindly, almost humorous
inflection. Maria felt that she could go down on her knees to her.

"You are very kind," said Harry Edgham, and he went out of the
kitchen as one who beats a retreat before superior forces.

"Maria, you just bring me the eggs, and a clean cup," said Mrs.
White. "Poor man, trying to cook eggs!" said she of Maria's father,
after he had gone. She was one of the women who always treat men with
a sort of loving pity, as if they were children. "Here is some nice
bacon," said she, rummaging in the pantry. "The eggs will be real
nice with bacon. Now, Maria, you look in the ice-chest and see if
there are any cold potatoes that can be warmed up. There's plenty of
bread in the jar, and we'll toast that. We'll have breakfast in a
jiffy. Doctors do have a hard life, and Miss Bell, she ought to have