They trooped upstairs, Mary hurrying first to see that the rooms were ready. In a little while she returned to the dining-room, and found Sarah sitting there. She had not even removed her bonnet.
"Aren't you going to bed?" asked Mary.
"I never go to bed within an hour after a meal unless there is some special reason. Is John in bed?"
"Yes. He went straight to sleep. He must be very tired."
Mary sat down on a chair near the table, and idly dug little pits in the salt-cellar, raising the spoon and watching the salt stream slowly back into the pot. The fire was dead and Sarah looked from the empty grate to the discarded meal on the table.
"Hadn't you better go to bed yourself? You'll have a hard day to-morrow."
"I know," said Mary, but she made no effort to rise.
"You're spilling that salt on the cloth. It'll only be more mess to clear away in the morning."
Mary's hand was still. She turned and looked at Sarah.
"You were right," she said at last very slowly.