Presently her eyes closed again.
Jerome pulled Elmira back into the parlor.

"You must go ahead and get the dinner, and make her some gruel, and not ask her a question, and not bother her about anything," he whispered, sternly.

"She's resting; she'll die if she don't.

It's awful for her.

It's bad 'nough for us, but we don't know what 'tis for her." Elmira assented, with wide, scared, piteous eyes on her brother.
"Go now and get the dinner," said Jerome.
"There's lots left over from yesterday," said Elmira, forlornly.
"Shall we have anything after that's gone ?" "Have enough while I've got two hands," returned Jerome, gruffly.
"Get some potatoes and boil 'em, and have some of that cold meat, and make mother the gruel." Elmira obeyed, finding a certain comfort in that.