|
Sophronia was carrying on a conversation with the fire
screen behind her. She turned to Caroline with glassy eyes that looked
but did not see. "Oh, Mary Lillian, my dear. How lovely you look
in that yellow silk." In dismay Caroline grasped handfuls of her faded
cotton print. "Your face looks yellow, too. Are you ill?" Her dinner in her throat, Caroline felt sick indeed
with the shock of her cousin's hallucinations. "She should be in bed," Penelope murmured.
She grasped her by the elbow and helped her from her rocker. Shaking, Caroline sank weak-kneed into a chair. At the door Sophronia turned and looked at her.
"My dear Mary Lillian, it s a shame you died so young."
|
