“I didn't hear anything about any headache before I went away. Must have come on mighty sudden,” said Aunt Maria.
“She said it ached very hard,” repeated Lily. “And when the door-bell rang, when Mr. Ramsey came—”
“It's mighty queer she should have had a headache when George Ramsey rang the door-bell,” said Aunt Maria.
“I guess it must have ached before,” said Lily, faintly.
“I should suppose it must have,” Aunt Maria said, sarcastically. “I don't see any reason why Maria's head should begin to ache when the door-bell rang.”
“Of course,” said Lily. “I suppose she just felt she couldn't talk, that was all.”
“It's mighty queer,” said Aunt Maria. She stood quite immovable. She was so stern that even her rakishly tipped bonnet did not seem at all funny. She looked at Lily and George Ramsey, and did not make a movement to remove her wraps.
Lily took a little, faltering step towards her. “You are all covered with snow, Miss Stillman,” she said, in her sweet voice.
“I don't mind a little snow,” said Aunt Maria.
“Won't you take this chair?” asked George Ramsey, pointing to the one which he had just vacated.