"But—but, Aunt Matilda!"
"Aunt Matilda nothin'! What could you do, anyhow? She don't want you anywheres near her, and the doctor said she mustn't be excited."
"I could do what I've always done—cooking and cleaning and washing and ironing, and I could carry things up-stairs for you."
"Maybe you could, Rosemary, but you ain't goin' to. You've served out your time. Don't you worry about me—I ain't goin' to kill myself."
"I—I wish you'd let me," Rosemary stammered.
"Well, I won't, and that's the end of it. I'll get along someways. The minister used to say that when God gave any of us a burden we couldn't carry by ourselves, He'd always send help, so, if I need help, I'll have it.
"I'll enjoy myself, too, in a way," she went on, after a little. "It's goin' to seem awful peaceful to have the house quiet, with no talkin' nor argument goin' on in it. Sometimes I've thought that if I could get out of the sound of the human voice for a spell I wouldn't feel so ugly. It's wore on me considerable—never bein' alone except nights or when I went up-stairs afternoons and pretended to take a nap. Lots of times I wasn't lyin' down at all—I was just settin' there, with the door locked, thinkin' how nice and quiet it was. Ma'll get a good rest, too, while she ain't talkin', though it ain't for me to say she's needed it."
The Wedding Dawn
"So," she continued, clearing her throat, "you go right on ahead with your marrying."
Rosemary bent and kissed the hollow, withered cheek. "I will," she said. "Oh, dear Aunt Matilda! I wish you hadn't missed it all!"