But when Maggie opened the kitchen door, she saw how the cold, pale light of a winter's day had filled the air.
"You're late with your shutters to-day, miss," said the man.

"I hope Nancy has not been giving you all a bad night.

Says I to Thomas, who came with me to the gate, 'It's many a year since I saw them parlor shutters barred up at half-past eight.'" Maggie went, as soon as he was gone, and opened all the low windows, in order that they might look as usual.

She wondered at her own outward composure, while she felt so dead and sick at heart.

Her mother would soon get up; must she be told?
Edward spoke to her now and then from his hiding-place.