His face still retained a slightly sulky, disturbed expression.
Ida, after a furtive glance at him, took up a sheet of the Sunday paper, and began swaying back and forth gracefully in her rocking-chair, as she read it.
"How foolish all this sentiment about that murderer in the Tombs is," said she presently.

"They are actually going to give him a Christmas-tree." "He is only a boy," said Harry absently.
"I know that--but the idea!" Just then Maria passed the window, dragging little Evelyn in her white sledge.

Ida rose with a motion of unusual quickness for her, but Harry stopped her as she was about to leave the room.
"Don't go out, Ida," he said, with a peremptoriness which sat strangely upon him.
Ida stared at him.

"Why, why not ?" she asked.

"I wanted to take Evelyn out.