She did not look at her sister.
Caroline sat down in a nearby armchair, and clutched the arms
convulsively until her thin knuckles whitened.
"I told you," said she.
Rebecca held her handkerchief over her mouth, and looked at them
above it with terrified, streaming eyes.
"I know you said that he had terrible pains in his stomach, and had
spasms, but what do you think made him have them?"
"Henry called it gastric trouble. You know Edward has always had
dyspepsia."
Mrs. Brigham hesitated a moment. "Was there any talk of an--
examination?" said she.
Then Caroline turned on her fiercely.
"No," said she in a terrible voice. "No."
The three sisters' souls seemed to meet on one common ground of
terrified understanding though their eyes. The old-fashioned latch
of the door was heard to rattle, and a push from without made the
door shake ineffectually. "It's Henry," Rebecca sighed rather than
whispered. Mrs. Brigham settled herself after a noiseless rush
across the floor into her rocking-chair again, and was swaying back
and forth with her head comfortably leaning back, when the door at
last yielded and Henry Glynn entered.
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