Another long and dull morning followed; Julia would not go out. Francesca ordered, argued, and coaxed in vain. Julia held to her point. She must and would be in, she said, when Harvey should arrive. Francesca at length went off with Mittie, not in the best of tempers, and Julia kept solitary watch at the window.
Nobody then could have called her pretty. She looked dejected and careworn, her cheeks pale, her eyes drooping and lustreless. Francesca, coming in before lunch, shrugged her shoulders, and said, "I declare you might be forty years old when you get into this state."
"I can't help it. My head aches," Julia answered.
"No wonder, when you sit mumping indoors the morning. How can you be so ridiculous? Very likely he will not arrive for a week!"
Julia shuddered at the idea. She would not eat any lunch, and how to get through the afternoon was a difficult problem.
[CHAPTER X.]
SUDDEN PERIL.
"A LETTER for you, Aunt Julia."
Mittie danced into the room, holding out an envelope; then danced back, holding it still. Julia started up.
"Mittie! give it to me," she cried.