"Yes, Aunt Harriet."

"Will you come in, please?"

Katie took the iron from her.

"You go. She's all dressed up, and she doesn't want any coffee."

So Sidney went in. It was to her that Harriet made her speech:--

"Sidney, when your father died, I promised to look after both you and your
mother until you were able to take care of yourself. That was five years
ago. Of course, even before that I had helped to support you."

"If you would only have your coffee, Harriet!"

Mrs. Page sat with her hand on the handle of the old silver-plated
coffee-pot. Harriet ignored her.

"You are a young woman now. You have health and energy, and you have
youth, which I haven't. I'm past forty. In the next twenty years, at the
outside, I've got not only to support myself, but to save something to keep
me after that, if I live. I'll probably live to be ninety. I don't want
to live forever, but I've always played in hard luck."

Sidney returned her gaze steadily.

"I see. Well, Aunt Harriet, you're quite right. You've been a saint to
us, but if you want to go away--"