It was a very warm night, but Maria was shivering as if with cold. He
placed the coverings over her with clumsy solicitude. Then he bent
down and kissed her. "Try and keep quiet, and go to sleep, darling,"
he said. Then he went out.

Aunt Maria was waiting for him in the hall. Her face, from grief and
consternation, had changed to sad and dignified resignation.

"Harry," said she.

Harry Edgham stopped.

"Well, sister," he said, with pleasant interrogation, although he
still looked shamefaced.

Aunt Maria held a lamp, a small one, which she was tipping
dangerously.

"Look out for your lamp, Maria," he said.

She straightened the lamp, and the light shone full upon her swollen
face, at once piteous and wrathful. "I only wanted to know when you
wanted me to go?" she said.

"Oh, Lord, Maria, you are going too fast!" replied Harry, and he
fairly ran into his own room.

The next morning when Maria, in her little black frock--it was made
of a thin lawn for the hot days, and the pale slenderness of her arms
and neck were revealed by the thinness of the fabric--went to school,