That night she came home late.
"Has Brother Jerome come in?" she asked Cherry.
"No. How you do fash about that man! His supper's waiting for him, and I saw to his fire. Now I'm going to bed. I'm dead tired."
"Do, Cherry. I'll sit up for Brother Jerome."
"Ask him, for goodness sake, not to march the boards so frequent. He'll have my grey hairs to account for. He's picked up a cough, too, and between the creaking of the boards, and the coughing, I have nice nights lately."
"You study too much, Cherry, or you wouldn't mind such little noises. Now go to bed, dear. I'll give Brother Jerome a hint."
"Good-night, Esther. Uncle's been in bed an hour or more. I hope that brother of the slums won't keep you long."
Cherry ran upstairs, and Esther went into the bright warm little kitchen. She left the door wide open, and then she sat and waited.
The substance of Sister Josephine's words rang in her ears.