"And how long be you going to sit up?" said Barby.
"I don't know--a while yet."
"You look proper for it!" said Barby half sorrowfully and half indignantly;--"you look as if a straw would knock you down this minute. There's sense into everything. You catch me a going to bed and leaving you up! It won't do me no hurt to sit here the hull night; and I'm the only one in the house that's fit for it, with the exception of Philetus, and the little wit he has by day seems to forsake him at night. All the light that ever gets into his head, I believe, comes from the outside; as soon as ever that's gone he shuts up his shutters. He's been snoozing a'ready now this hour and a half. Go yourself off to bed, Fleda," she added with a mixture of reproach and kindness, "and leave me alone to take care of myself and the house too."
Fleda did not remonstrate, for Barby was as determined in her way as it was possible for anything to be. She went into the other room without a particle of notion what she should say or do.
Hugh was walking up and down the floor--a most unusual sign of perturbation with him. He met and stopped her as she came in.
"Fleda, I cannot bear it. What is the matter?--Do you know?'" he said as her eyes fell.
"Yes.----"
"What is it?"
She was silent and tried to pass on to the fire. But he stayed her.
"What is it?" he repeated.