"Yes, Annie; but never mind. If I could only get out-of-doors I wouldn't mind."
"Oh, sister, don't let it hurt."
"Can't help it, Annie. Now, don't think about it, that's a good girl. Maybe I can get out to-morrow a little while."
"But I can't bear it."
"Got to, my dear. Come, now, run away. Go and see your chickens."
"Sister, I can't bear it."
"Annie, you drive me wild. Augustine—oh, she can't hear. Augustine! you must take Miss Annie away. Annie, if you say another word—"
"I'm the oldest and I have a right to talk. Why don't you smell your big bottle? When the squirrels smell it they are not hurt."
"Well, I'm not a squirrel. Annie, if you stay another minute, I'll—I'll— Oh, for Heaven's sake, let me alone!"
She could stand it, she told herself, if she was alone. For though she finally accepted the fact, her own weakness she could not accept. "I am ashamed," she told William King, angrily.