"Why, you've turned it back to front."
Strips of Mamma's garden shone between the dull maroon red curtains.
Inside the happy light was dead.
There seemed to her something sinister about this change. Only the two spare rooms still looked to the front. They had put her in one of them instead of her old room on the top floor; Dan had the other instead of his. It was very queer.
Aunt Lavvy sat in Mamma's place at the head of the tea-table. A tall, iron-grey woman in an iron-grey gown stood at her elbow holding a little tray. She looked curiously at Mary, as if her appearance there surprised and interested her. Aunt Lavvy put a cup of tea on the tray.
"Where's Aunt Charlotte?"
"Aunt Charlotte is upstairs. She isn't very well."
The maid was saying, "Miss Charlotte asked for a large piece of plum cake, ma'am," and Aunt Lavvy added a large piece of plum cake to the plate of thin bread and butter.
Mary thought: "There can't be much the matter with her if she can eat all that."
"Can I see her?" she said.
She heard the woman whisper, "Better not." She was glad when she left the room.