What was wrong with the ladies?
Eleanor looked round her with a faint smile.
'It doesn't matter,' she said under her breath.

Then she looked at Lucy.
'What care we take of you! How well we look after you!' And she dropped her head on her hands in a fit of hysterical laughter--very near to sobs.
'I!' cried Lucy.

'As if I couldn't sleep anywhere, and eat anything! But you--that's another business.

When the cart comes, we can fix you up a little better--but to-night!' She looked, frowning, round the empty room.
'There is nothing to do anything with--or I'd set to work right away.' 'Ecco, Signora!' said the farmer's wife.

She carried triumphantly in her hands a shaky carpet-chair, the only article of luxury apparently that the convent provided.
Eleanor thanked her, and the woman stood with her hands on her hips, surveying them.