Agnes. What nonsense! I didn't intend you should hear me. I wanted to wish you a happy New Year first.
Lucy. So as to make your Aunt play second fiddle. The same to you, dear.
Agnes. Thank you. [Warms her hands at the fire.] Oh, it is cold; not here I mean, but out of doors; the thermometer is down I don't know how many degrees below freezing.
Lucy. It seems to agree with you, at all events. You look as bright and rosy as though you were the New Year itself come to visit me.
Agnes. [Laughs merrily.] So I ought to. I ran nearly all the way, except when I slid, to the great horror of an old gentleman who was busily engaged lecturing some little boys on the enormity of their sins in making a beautifully long slide in the middle of the pavement.
Lucy. And what brought you out so early?
Agnes. To see you, of course. Besides, the morning is so lovely it seemed a sin to remain indoors. I do hope the frost continues all the holidays.
Lucy. It is all very well for you, but it must be terribly trying for many people—the poor, for instance.
Agnes. Yes. [A pause.] Auntie, you don't know anything, do you, about how—how poor people live?
Lucy. Not so much as I ought to.