You must never do such a thing again, whatever happens, Maria.
You might as well run right into a den of wild beasts.

Only think of that child going to New York, and coming out on the last train, with that Mann girl; and Wollaston is only a boy, though he's bright and smart.

And your cousin has moved, Ida." "I thought she had," said Ida.
"And to think of what those children might have got into," said Harry, "in a city like New York, which is broken out all over with plague spots instead of having them in one place! Only think of it, Ida!" Harry's voice was almost sobbing.

It seemed as if he fairly appealed to his wife for sympathy, with his consciousness of the dangers through which his child had passed.

But Ida only said, "Yes." "And the baby might have fallen into the worst hands," said Harry.
"But, thank God, a good woman, although she was coarse enough, got hold of her." "Yes, we can't be thankful enough," Ida said, smoothly, and then Josephine came in with a tray and a silver cup of hot milk for Evelyn.
"Is that all the milk Annie heated ?" asked Harry.
"Yes, sir." "Well, tell Annie to go to the sideboard and get that bottle of port-wine and pour out a glass for Miss Maria; and, Josephine, you had better bring her something to eat with it.