She knew that Mrs.Tracy looked upon her as an intruder, and possibly a liar; but she cared little for that lady's opinion.

She only thought of Frank and what he would say.
Lifting up her head at last from the pillow where she had lain it for a moment, while Maude's thin little hands caressed the golden hair, she saw him standing at the foot of the bed, taller, straighter than she had seen him in years, with a look on his face which she knew was not adverse to herself.
'Jerrie,' he said, slowly and thickly, for something choked his speech, 'I can't tell you now all I feel, only I am glad for you and Arthur, but gladder for myself.' What did he mean?
Jerrie wondered; while Maude's eyes sought his questioningly, and his wife said, sharply: 'You are talking like a lunatic! Do you propose to give up so easily to a girl's bare word! Let Jerrie prove it, before she is mistress here.' Then into Maude's eyes there crept a look of terror and pain, and she whispered: 'Yes, Jerrie, prove it.

There were papers in your hand, and a bag, and you said, "It is so written here." Bring the papers and read them to us--here in this room.

I can bear it.

I must hear them.