She somehow knew, however, that her aunt was lighting the lamp, then she felt, rather than saw, the flash of it across her face.

Her aunt Maria pulled on a wrapper over her night-gown, and hurried to the door.

"Harry, Harry Edgham!" she heard her call, and still Maria could not move.

Then she also felt, rather than saw, her father enter the room with his bath-robe slipped over his pajamas, and approach the bed.
"What on earth is the matter ?" he said.

He also laid hands on Maria, and, at his touch, she became able to move.
"What on earth is the matter ?" he asked again.
"She didn't seem able to speak or move, and I was scared," replied Aunt Maria, with a reproachful accent on the "I"; but Harry Edgham was too genuinely concerned at his little daughter's white face and piteous look to heed that at all.
He leaned over and began stroking her soft little cheeks, and kissing her.