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XXVII. An Afternoon at the Stone House
Shehasn’tseemedlikeherselfthislongwhile,ma’am...notsincethatdayyouandPaulwereheretogetherbefore.Ifeelsureshecaughtcoldthatnight,ma’am.Afteryouandhimhadgoneshewentoutandwalkedinthegardenforlongafterdarkwithnothingbutalittleshawlonher.TherewasalotofsnowonthewalksandIfeelsureshegotachill,ma’am.EversincethenI’venoticedheractingtiredandlonesomelike.Shedon’tseemtotakeaninterestinanything,ma’am.Sheneverpretendscompany’scoming,norfixesupforit,nornothing,ma’am.It’sonlywhenyoucomesheseemstochirkupabit.Andtheworstsignofall,MissShirley,ma’am...”CharlottatheFourthloweredhervoiceasifshewereabouttotellsomeexceedinglyweirdandawfulsymptomindeed...“isthatshenevergetscrossnowwhenIbreaksthings.Why,MissShirley,ma’am,yesterdayIbrukhergreenandyallerbowlthat’salwaysstoodonthebookcase.HergrandmotherbroughtitoutfromEnglandandMissLavendarwasawfulchoiceofit.Iwasdustingitjustascareful,MissShirley,ma’am,anditslippedout,sofashion,aforeIcouldgrabholtofit,andbrukintoaboutfortymillyunpieces.ItellyouIwassorryandscared.IthoughtMissLavendarwouldscoldmeawful,ma’am;andI’druthershehadthantakeitthewayshedid.Shejustcomeinandhardlylookedatitandsaid,‘It’snomatter,Charlotta.Takeupthepiecesandthrowthemaway.’Justlikethat,MissShirley,ma’am...