She coughed a little.
"Why don't you put up your sewing for to-night and go to bed, child ?" said her mother.
"I might as well sit here and sew as go to bed and lie there.

I shouldn't sleep," replied Maria, with the gentlest sadness conceivable.

There was in it no shadow of complaining.

Of late years all the fire of resistance had seemed to die out in the girl.

She was unfailingly sweet, but nerveless.