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Updated: May 20, 2025
At four o'clock the doctor came again. Save for the almost imperceptible breathing, Lucy lay so pale and still that they almost thought her dead. At sunset she moved uneasily, and with a great sigh lifted her heavy lids and looked round the room. A sob burst from Aunt Hepsy's lips, and Carrie Goldthwaite's tears fell fast, for Dr. Gair's face said she was saved.
I don't think she has been to the parsonage since the day we came." The next moment Miss Goldthwaite's "help" ushered in Miss Hepsy Strong, attired in a shawl of brilliant hues and a marvellous bonnet. She dropped a courtesy to the parson, and sat down on the extreme edge of the chair Miss Goldthwaite offered her, declining, at the same time, her offer of a cup of tea.
"Yes, and expense; though I don't think he would refuse on that score. I should have liked" Mrs. Goldthwaite's tone was only half, and very gently, objecting; there was an inflection of ready self-relinquishment in it, also "to have had your first journey with me. But you might have waited a long time for that."
"No," said Mrs. Holabird; "and especially at the front windows. A great deal that is good a great deal of the best comes in at the back-doors." Everybody, we thought, did not have a back-door to their life, as we did. They hardly seemed to know if they had one to their houses. Our "back yett was ajee," now, at any rate. Aaron Goldthwaite's ward.
"Look out here, Peter!" Peter looked, and saw his old partner, Mr. John Brown, on the opposite sidewalk, portly and comfortable, with his furred cloak thrown open, disclosing a handsome surtout beneath. His voice had directed the attention of the whole town to Peter Goldthwaite's window, and to the dusty scarecrow which appeared at it. "I say, Peter!" cried Mr.
She hovered about in an odd, restless kind of way, and finally came behind Aunt Hepsy's chair, and folded her hands on her shoulder. "What is it, child?" said Aunt Hepsy wonderingly. "Summat you have to tell me, I reckon. Anything in Tom's letter ye haven't told me?" "No, Aunt Hepsy," and Lucy's voice fell very low now. "I want to tell you I have promised to be Mr. Goldthwaite's wife."
The two had already made up their minds to be friends. In fact, Master Thayne would hardly have acquiesced in being led up for introduction to any other young girl in the room. There had been something in Leslie Goldthwaite's face that had looked kind and sisterly to him. He had no fear of a snub with her; and these things Mr. Wharne had read, in his behalf, as well.
No; this is old Peter Goldthwaite's writing. These columns of pounds, shillings and pence are his figures, denoting the amount of the treasure, and this, at the bottom, is doubtless a reference to the place of concealment. But the ink has either faded or peeled off, so that it is absolutely illegible. What a pity!" "Well, this lamp is as good as new. That's some comfort," said Tabitha.
There are some pretty chickens and kittens at Aunt Hepsy's, but she won't let me pet them." In the delight of examining Miss Goldthwaite's menagerie sadder thoughts flew, and the evening sped on golden wings. The time came at last for the two to bid a regretful good-bye to the parsonage and turn their faces homewards.
"The money IS found!" exclaimed Peter, with a sort of fierceness. "The chest is within my reach. I will not sleep, till I have turned this key in the rusty lock. But, first of all, let us drink!" There being no corkscrew in the house, he smote the neck of the bottle with old Peter Goldthwaite's rusty key, and decapitated the sealed cork at a single blow.
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