ONION FRY . . . One
last look back before the world is filled with the sense, smell, and
taste of it.--Poor girl, so white and so patient--the young man will
never come back--never . . . never . . . ONION FRY.
No; no one knew what Maggie was thinking. No one found out until
Maggie had her second visitor, Miss Avies.
When Martha opened the door to Miss Avies she was astonished. Miss
Avies hadn't been near the house since old Warlock died. What was
she wanting here now, with her stiff back and bossy manner.
"I don't know whether you can see--"
"Oh nonsense, it's Maggie Cardinal I want to see. She's now in the
drawing-room sitting on a chair with a shawl on by the fire. Don't
tell me!"
Martha quivered with anger. "The doctor's orders is--"
"I'm going to be doctor to-day," she said, and strode inside. She
went upstairs and found Aunt Elizabeth sitting with Maggie.
"How do you do, Miss Cardinal?" They shook hands, Miss Avies
standing over Aunt Elizabeth like the boa constrictor raised above
the mouse.
"That's all right . . . No, I don't want to see your sister. And to
be quite honest, I don't want to see you either.
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