All her womanly stateliness, which made her seem so superior to Rose, had vanished.

Rose pulled her chair close to the bed, sat down, and laid her little thin hand on Charlotte's arm, and Charlotte directly felt it hot through her sleeve.

"Don't, Charlotte," Rose said; "I'm sorry I spoke so." "Maybe I don't care," Charlotte sobbed out again.

"Maybe I don't." "Oh, Charlotte, I'm sorry," Rose said, trembling.

"I do know you care; don't you feel so bad because I said that." Rose tightened her grasp on Charlotte's arm; her voice changed suddenly.