She felt afraid to go to bed and leave the house alone except for the heavily sleeping woman, whom her father had hard work to rouse when he returned, and who staggered out of the door, when she started home, as if she were drunk.

She herself never felt sleepy; it was even hard for her to sleep when at last her father had returned and she went to bed.

Often after she had fallen asleep her heart seemed to sting her awake.
Maria grew thinner than ever.

Somebody called Harry Edgham's attention to the fact, and he got some medicine for her to take.

But it was not medicine which she needed--that is, not medicine for the body, but for the soul.