Mrs. L. No, child; your—poor—mother—is failing rapidly; a few short days—and then—
Aunt M. (Sneezes.) Massy sakes, child! who left that door open? Do you want your marm to catch her death? (Alice shuts door, L.)
Alice. Have you had your breakfast, mother?
Mrs. L. Yes, child—all I wanted—but I have no appetite.
Aunt M. Well, Angelina, how do you feel now?
Mrs. L. Very feeble.
Aunt M. What does she say?
Alice. Very feeble.
Aunt M. Hay?