“Sick? No,” replied Aunt Maria, crossly.
“I guess I will stay home with her, anyway,” Evelyn said, timidly.
“Well, you can do jest as you are a mind to,” said Aunt Maria. “I'm goin' to meetin'. If folks want to act like fools, I ain't goin' to stay at home and coddle them.”
“Oh, Aunt Maria, I don't think sister acts like a fool,” Evelyn said, in her sweet, distressed voice. “She looks real pale and acts all tired out.”
“I guess she'll survive it,” said Aunt Maria, pouring the coffee.
“Don't you think I had better make some toast and a cup of tea for her, if she does say she doesn't want any breakfast?”
“Maria Edgham is old enough to know her own mind, and if she says she don't want any breakfast I'd let her go without till she was hungry,” said Aunt Maria. She adored Maria above any living thing, and just in proportion to the adoration she felt angry with her. It was a great relief to her not to see her.
“Aren't you going up-stairs and see if you think sister is sick?” Evelyn asked, as Aunt Maria was tying her bonnet-strings.
“No, I ain't,” replied Aunt Maria. “It's all I can do to walk to church. I ain't goin' to climb the stairs for nothin'. I ain't worried a mite about her.”
After Aunt Maria was gone Evelyn made a slice of toast, placed it on a pretty plate, and made also some tea, which she poured into a very dainty cup. Then she carried the toast and tea on a little tray up to Maria's room.