A Bevy of Girls by L.T. Meade

"Now, my dear," said Mrs Aldworth, when Marcia entered her room, "I really expect to have some comfort. You have such a nice understanding way, Marcia. Oh, my dear, don't let so much light into the room. How stupid. Do you see how that ray of sunlight will creep up my bed in a few moments and fall on my face. I assure you, Marcia, my nerves are so sensitive that if the sun were even to touch my cheek for an instant, I should have a sort of sunstroke. I endured agonies from Nesta's carelessness in that way a few days ago."

"Well, it will be all right now, mother," said Marcia in a cheerful tone.