She was too little in the habit of reading expressions on the faces
of others to notice Parker's countenance,

Yet it was striking. It was blanched to a dead whiteness; the lips
compressed as if to keep within some tale of horror; the eyes
distended and unnatural. It was a terror-stricken face.

The girls began to put away their music and books, in preparation
for tea. The door slowly opened again, and this time it was the
nurse who entered. I call her nurse, for such had been her office
in bygone days, though now she held rather an anomalous situation in
the family. Seamstress, attendant on the young ladies, keeper of
the stores; only "Nurse" was still her name. She had lived longer
with them than any other servant, and to her their manner was far
less haughty than to the other domestics. She occasionally came
into the drawing-room to look for things belonging to their father
or mother, so it did not excite any surprise when she advanced into
the room. They went on arranging their various articles of
employment.

She wanted them to look up. She wanted them to read something in
her face--her face so full of woe, of horror. But they went on
without taking any notice. She coughed; not a natural cough; but
one of those coughs which asks so plainly for remark.

"Dear nurse, what is the matter?" asked Amy. "Are not you well?"

"Is mamma ill?" asked Sophy quickly.

"Speak, speak, nurse!" said they all, as they saw her efforts to