‘Oh, I can almost remember,’ she whispered, just as Frank’s voice broke the spell by saying: 

’Good-morning, Gretchen.  Arthur is in California, but he is surely coming back; he bade me tell you so.’

‘Is he crazy as well as Mr. Arthur?  Are we all crazy together?’ Jerrie asked herself, as she watched him closing the blinds and shutting out the sunlight from the room, so that the picture was in shadow now and seemed nothing but bits of colored glass.

‘I have kept my promise to Arthur; and now for Maude,’ Frank said, and Jerry was conscious of a new and strange sensation—­a feeling of ownership and possession, as she went through the broad hall, glancing in at one handsome room after another, until she reached Maude’s door.

On the threshold she met Mrs. Frank, just coming out, and elegantly attired in a tasteful muslin wrapper, with more lace and embroidery upon it than Jerrie had ever worn in her life; her hair was carefully dressed with a cap which looked like a pen-wiper or doll’s bonnet, it was so small, perched on the top of it; her face was powdered, and her manner was one of languor and fine-ladyism, which she had cultivated so assiduously and achieved so successfully.  Not a muscle of her face changed when she saw Jerrie, but she closed Maude’s door quickly, and stepping into the hall, offered the tips of her fingers, as she said, in a fretful, rather than a welcoming tone: 

’Good-morning.  You are very late.  Maude expected you two hours ago, almost immediately after Tom went out.  She has worked herself into a great state of feverish nervousness.’

‘I am so sorry,’ Jerry replied.  ’But I could not come sooner.  I had a large washing to do, and that takes time, you know.’

Jerry meant no reflection upon the days when Dolly had done her own washing, and knew that it took time, but the thought she did, and a frown settled upon her face as she replied: 

’Surely your grandmother might have helped you, or Harold; and Maude is so impatient and weak this morning.  The doctor says there is no danger if she is kept quiet.  She is only tired out with that room of yours.  Why, I am told she has actually puttied up nail-holes, and painted walls, and sawed boards!  I hope you like it.  You ought to, for a part of Maude’s life and strength is in it.’

‘Oh, Mrs. Tracy,’ Jerry cried, with tears in her eyes, ’I am so sorry.  Of course I like the room, or did; but if it has injured Maude, I shall hate it.’

Dolly had given her a little stab and was satisfied, so she said in a softer tone: 

’Maude may recover—­I think she will; but everything must be done to please her, and she cannot talk to you this morning—­remember that.  You must do the talking, but must not stay too long.’

‘Mamma—­mamma, let Jerrie in,’ came faintly from the closed room; and then Mrs. Tracy stood aside and let Jerrie pass into the luxurious apartment, where Maude lay upon a silken couch, with a soft, rose-colored shawl thrown over her shoulders, her eyes large and hollow, and her face as white almost as a corpse.