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Updated: June 4, 2025
That will make only four of us again, and fifty-two cookies as before. I do hope there are that many. Aunt Esmerelda says she's going to stop baking cookies, they go so fast." Happily, the cooky jar was full again, and Hortense and Andy filled their pockets with the fifty-two cookies. When it was dark and still, Hortense explained the plan to her companions.
But the boy didn't seem to like this idea. "I want to get out," he said, and disappeared. "I believe there's some sort of a door at the bottom," he said at last, reappearing, "but it opens from the other side. Couldn't you get into the cellar and open it?" "Aunt Esmerelda might see me and ask what I was doing," she answered. "Maybe I can get by when she isn't looking. You wait."
Aunt Esmerelda was shaking, and by the light of the candle Hortense could see the whites of her eyes gleaming as she looked all about her. They started again for the cellar stairs. When they had reached the furnace, a sudden gust of wind blew out the candle. In a far corner of the cellar something rattled. Aunt Esmerelda started to run, and Hortense ran after her.
Shutting my eyes resolutely on the rarest bits of landscape caught now and then through a chance opening in the trees, I walked at my best speed along the drifted road. Esmerelda had described the cottage so minutely that I had no trouble in recognizing it.
"Oh, yes; and he sees as well as anybody." "I will go to-day," I said, with difficulty restraining my delight. "Some of the people who attend Beech Street Church think you are a little above everybody in Cavendish." Esmerelda spoke with great cordiality.
Blake having got her patient back into the chair, administered wine and water to prevent a recurrence of the malady. A week or two after this Esmerelda informed me one morning that there were great rejoicings in the Mill Road. "I think they would like to see you there. I heard Mr. Bowen and some of them talking about you last night, after meeting." "Mr. Bowen was he there?"
Winthrop appointed, and the time appointed by myself for painting, the entire morning until luncheon I found quite short enough. I started for Mrs. Blake's. I found her in a very happy mood. The revival was still progressing in the Beech Street church, and Esmerelda, from day to day, had been telling me how happy Mr.
When we reached the hotel I was cold, and feeling very cheerless; but a comfortable looking maid, not half so overwhelming as our Esmerelda, conducted me to a pleasant room, and soon had a bright fire burning, and a cozy breakfast spread on a little table just in front of the grate. I was not hungry, but I took the cup of hot chocolate Mr.
A faint light from the kitchen shone on the head of the cellar stairs. Aunt Esmerelda hurried up the stairs, panting, with Hortense at her heels. At the top Aunt Esmerelda slammed and bolted the door; then she sank into a chair and mopped her perspiring face. "Do you think it was the 'ha'nt'?" Hortense asked much excited. "Don' speak to me 'bout no ha'nt!" exclaimed Aunt Esmerelda angrily.
"Aunt Esmerelda would catch us and tell Uncle Jonah," said Hortense. She meditated on the delightful possibilities of the box. "We could play hide and seek, sometime when nobody's about," she said. "It's a grand place to hide." "But we both know of it and there's nobody else to play with," said Andy.
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