The table was as silent as though it had been bare in an empty room.
The dog gave a quick, sharp bark.
Mis’ Overfield stood trembling.
“Heaven forgive me!” she said. “My heart and Annie’s are the same. We should be good to our own.”
She shook. “If I only knew that Annie was alive, I would forgive her everything. I would take her home to my bosom, her Tory husband and all. I never would have one hour of peace if she were to die. I never knew my heart before. Her cradle was here, and here should be her last rest. Annie was a good girl, and I am blind and hard. Annie, Annie! Oh, I would not have anything befall Annie. Albert, where is the key of the clock?”
The boy gave his mother the key.
“Here, mother, and it is a jolly time we’ll have.”
“Albert, how can you smile at a time like this! Didn’t you hear what she suggested? Don’t you sense it? You go with me now slowly, for I am all nerves, and my heart is weak.”
“That I will, mother.”