A door banged.

Then it was so still she could hear the clock tick in the next room.
It was the first time in all her life that her mother had not come to kiss her good night.

Her lips quivered, and a big tear rolled down on the pillow.
She reached out to the chair beside her bed, where her clothes were hanging, and felt in her apron pocket for the little glove.

She sat up in bed, and looked at it in the dim firelight.

Then she held it against her face.