Her husband is dead , and I guess he led her a life of it when he was alive , and she 's as poor as second skimmings . She was aiming to come here , Mrs. Joel says , but when she got to Oriental she was n't fit to stir a step further , and the Kents had to keep her . I gather from what Mrs. Joel said that she 's rather touched in her mind too , and has an awful hankering to get home here -- to this very house . She appears to have the idea that it is hers , and all just the same as it used to be . I guess she is a sight of trouble , and Mrs. Joel ai n't the woman to like that . But there ! She has to work most awful hard , and I suppose a sick person does n't come handy in a hotel . I guess you 've got your revenge , Anna , without lifting a finger to get it . Think of Lou Carroll coming to that ! '' The next day was cold and raw . The ragged , bare trees in the old Carroll grounds shook and writhed in the gusts of wind . Now and then a drifting scud of rain dashed across the windows . Mrs. March looked out with a shiver , and turned thankfully to her own cosy fireside again . Presently she thought she heard a low knock at the front door , and went to see . As she opened it a savage swirl of damp wind rushed in , and the shrinking figure leaning against one of the fluted columns of the Grecian porch seemed to cower before its fury . It was a woman who stood there , a woman whose emaciated face wore a piteous expression , as she lifted it to Mrs. March . `` You do n't know me , of course , '' she said , with a feeble attempt at dignity . `` I am Mrs. Baxter . I -- I used to live here long ago . I thought I 'd walk over today and see my old home . ''
A fit XXXXX coughing interrupted her words , and she trembled like a leaf .
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