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Updated: May 4, 2025
Aunt Maria stood still, listening, until she heard the parlor door open. She was still filled with vague suspicion. She did not hear quite as acutely as formerly, and Maria had no difficulty about leaving the parlor unheard the second after she entered it, and getting her hat and coat and a small satchel which she had brought down-stairs with her from the hat-tree in the entry.
If you have really made your cousin blind for life I hope it will be a lesson to you." While Mrs. Eastman talked, looking very stately in her velvet dress, Master Johnny was balancing himself on the hat-tree in the hall, as if he scarcely heard what she said; but, in spite of his disrespectful manner, he was really unhappy. "I knew something would go wrong," continued Mrs.
Then, quite by itself, another figure flashed past him. He had a glimpse of a dusky mass of hair, of a piquant profile, of a round arm bared to the elbow. As the figure passed the hat-tree he saw the arm reach out and catch the rose-coloured scarf, flinging it over one shoulder.
"Yes'm here I am and I am here to convince you that I am no house-burglar nor highway robber I am here with a valuable article which you can not afford to be without nor can any other housekeeper and were I to leave without showing it you would always pride yourself on getting rid of one impostor I must insist on showing you the value of my preparation which I can do on the hat-tree here in the hall."
"She can't have run away home, can she?" he said to himself, as he paused before the hat-tree. There was the little round hat, and Tom gave it a remorseful smooth, remembering how many times he had tweaked it half off, or poked it over poor Polly's eyes. "Maybe she 's gone down to the office, to tell pa. 'T is n't a bit like her, though. Anyway, I 'll take a look round the corner."
One morning Dotty climbed the hat-tree to get away from her cousin Percy. "Don't believe 'cousin Dimple' knows a hat-tree wasn't made for little girls to sit on," said Percy. "No, 'twas made to swing on," replied Dotty, tilting herself backward and forward like a bird on a bough. "I'm going to stay here till somebody carries me off pick-aback."
"That would always be what he was speaking of." He smiled a little as he said it. "All right," returned Hardwick, struggling into his overcoat at the hat-tree, and seeking his hat and stick, "I'll go right back with you, Mac. This thing somehow has a sinister look to me."
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