She could see from where she sat, the lights from the windows of the Edes' house, and she heard Wilbur's voice, and now and then his laugh.

Margaret's voice, she never heard at all.

Annie went into the chamber, the best in the house, and there lay her grandmother, old Ann Maria Eustace, propped up in bed, reading a novel which was not allowed in the Fairbridge library.

She had bidden Annie buy it for her, when she last went to New York.
"I wouldn't ask a girl to buy such a book," the old lady had said, "but nobody will know you and I have read so many notices about its wickedness, I want to see it for myself." Now she looked up when Annie entered.

"It is not wicked at all," she said in rather a disappointed tone.