this way, calmly putting aside the proposition as if it
were nothing and saying she hadn't decided what she was going to do
yet, for all the world as if she were a millionaire!

"I don't know, Ellen. I haven't had time to think. There have been so
many things to think about since the funeral I haven't got used yet to
the idea that mother's really gone." Julia's voice was quiet and
controlled, in sharp contrast with Ellen's high-pitched, nervous
tones.

"That's it!" snapped Ellen. "When you do, you'll go all to pieces,
staying here alone in this great barn. That's why I want you to decide
now. I think you ought to lock up and come home with me to-night. I've
spent just as much time away from home as I can spare the last three
weeks, and I've got to get back to my house. I can't stay with you any
more."

"Of course not, Ellen. I quite understand that," said Julia, turning
around pleasantly. "I hadn't expected you to stay. It isn't in the
least necessary. You know I'm not at all afraid."

"But it isn't decent to leave you here alone, when you've got folks
that can take care of you. What will people think? It places us in an
awfully awkward position."

"They will simply think that I have chosen to remain in my own house,
Ellen. I don't see anything strange or indecent about that."

Julia Cloud had turned about, and was facing her sister calmly now.
Her quiet voice seemed to irritate Ellen.

"What nonsense!" she said sharply. "How exceedingly childish, letting
yourself be ruled by whims, when common sense must show you that you
are wrong. I wonder if you aren't ever going to be a _woman_."

Ellen said this word "woman" as if her sister had already passed into
the antique class and ought to realize it. It was one of the things
that hurt Julia Cloud to realize that she was growing old apparently
without the dignity that belonged to her years, for they all talked to
her yet as if she were a little child and needed to be managed. She
opened her lips to speak, but thought better of it, and shut them
again, turning back to the window and the gray, sodden landscape.

"Well, as I said before, you're a very foolish woman; and you'll soon
find it out. I shall have to go and leave you to the consequences of
your folly. I'm sure I don't know what Herbert will say when he finds
out how you've scorned his kindness. It isn't every brother-in-law
would offer--yes, _offer_, Julia, for I never even suggested it--to
take on extra ex