When Emma spoke again her voice was still more hushed. "I know how he felt," said she. "It must have looked to him as if Edward was living at his expense, but he wasn't." "No, he wasn't." "And Edward had a right here according to the terms of father's will, and Henry ought to have remembered it." "Yes, he ought." "Did he say hard things?" "Pretty hard, from what I heard." "What?" "I heard him tell Edward that he had no business here at all, and he thought he had better go away." "What did Edward say?" "That he would stay here as long as he lived and afterward, too, if he was a mind to, and he would like to see Henry get him out; and then----" "What?" "Then he laughed." "What did Henry say?" "I didn't hear him say anything, but----" "But what?" "I saw him when he came out of this room." "He looked mad?" "You've seen him when he looked so." Emma nodded. The expression of horror on her face had deepened. "Do you remember that time he killed the cat because she had scratched him?" "Yes. Don't!" Then Caroline reentered the room; she went up to the stove, in which a wood fire was burning--it was a cold, gloomy day of fall--and she warmed her hands, which were reddened from recent washing in cold water. Mrs. Brigham looked at her and hesitated. She glanced at the door, which was still ajar; it did not easily shut, being still swollen with the damp weather of the summer. She rose and pushed it together with a sharp thud, which jarred the house. Rebecca started painfully with a half-exclamation. Caroline looked at her disapprovingly. "It is time you controlled your nerves, Rebecca," she said. Mrs. Brigham, returning from the closed door, said imperiously that it ought to be fixed, it shut so hard. "It will shrink enough after we have had the fire a few days," replied Caroline. "I think Henry ought to be ashamed of himself for talking as he did to Edward," said Mrs. Brigham abruptly, but in an almost inaudible voice. "Hush," said Caroline, with a glance of actual fear at the closed door. "Nobody can hear with the door shut. I say again I think Henry ought to be ashamed of himself. I shouldn't think he'd ever get over it, having words with poor Edward the very night before he died. Edward was enough sight better disposition than Henry, with all his faults." "I never heard him speak a cross word, unless he spoke cross to Henry that last night. I don't know but he did from what Rebecca overheard." "Not so much cross, as sort of soft, and sweet, and aggravating," sniffed Rebecca. "What do you really think ailed Edward?" asked Emma in hardly more than a whisper. She did not look at her sister. "I know you said that he had terrible pains in his stomach, and had spasms, but what do you think made him have them?" "Henry called it gastric trouble. You know Edward has always had dyspepsia." Mrs. Brigham hesitated a moment. "Was there any talk of an--examination?" said she. Then Caroline turned on her fiercely.