AUNT ANNE In the morning, however, she discovered no fine things anywhere.

The hours that had elapsed since her father's death had wrought in him a "sea-change." He had gained nobility, almost beauty.

She wondered with a desolate self-criticism whether during all those years she had been to blame and not he.

Perhaps he had wished for sympathy and intimacy and she had repulsed him.

His little possessions here and there about the house reproached her.
Uncle Mathew had a bad headache and would not come down to breakfast.
She felt indignant with him but also indulgent.