It was necessary to keep the house very still, on account of Aunt Bessie, who was so very nervous that the least sound disturbed her; and roguish, noisy Frankie was, by Aunt Patty's earnest request, allowed to go to her house, where, for a few days, he lorded it over that humble servant of his to his heart's content. But there was no need to send the little girls away; they were only too quiet, and moped about the house in a way that was quite melancholy to see. The weather was damp and rainy, so they could not be much out of doors; and, although their friends did all they could to divert them with stories, reading aloud, and games, they did not seem able to shake off their sadness. The truth was, they could not forget Aunt Bessie's face, as they had seen it lying on Uncle Ruthven's shoulder, white and still; and it scarcely seemed possible to them that she could ever be well again.