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 through 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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