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Updated: September 20, 2025
"What's that you're stuffing into your pocket, Tom?" she said, turning her eagle eyes again on Tom. "A bit paper, aunt, that's all." "People don't laugh at common bits o' paper, nor go stuffin' em into pockets like that. Hand it over." "I'd rather not, Aunt Hepsy," said the boy. "I rather you would," was her dry retort. "Out with it." "It's mine, Aunt Hepsy, and you wouldn't care to see it."
Asaph, who had leaned forward to administer it, was frowning and shaking his head. Mr. Bangs relapsed into a grinning silence. West Bayport seemed to be deserted. At one or two houses, however, feminine heads appeared at the windows. One old lady shook a calico apron at the carriage. A child beside her cried: "Hurrah!" "Aunt Hepsy h'istin' colors by mistake," laughed the captain.
Early next afternoon Miss Goldthwaite walked up to Thankful Rest on her mission to Miss Hepsy. That lady was making preserves, for which Lucy had been kept since early morning paring and coring apples and stoning plums.
He was an old man, blunt-mannered, but truly tenderhearted, and a great favourite in the township. He had not been once at Thankful Rest since Deacon Strong's death, for neither the brother nor sister had ever had a day's illness in their lives. He made his examination of Lucy in a few minutes, and Miss Hepsy watched with a sinking heart how very grave his face was when he turned to her.
Miss Hepsy did not look surprised, or even curious, she only said calmly, "It wouldn't be the first time you've vexed me, Miss Goldthwaite, by a long chalk." "It's about Lucy, Miss Hepsy," continued Miss Goldthwaite. "Can't you see she's hardly fit to do a hand's turn at work? I met her out there carrying a load she was no more fit to carry than that kitten."
Hepsy told Cinthy it might 'a' ben a dream; so it might, but Cinthy she was sure it wa'n't a dream, 'cause she remembers plain hearin' the old clock on the stairs strike four while she had her eyes open lookin' at the woman; and then she only shet 'em a minute, jest to say 'Now I lay me, and opened 'em and she was gone. "Wal, Cinthy told Hepsy, and Hepsy she kep' it putty close.
The quiet eyes raised themselves in loving gratitude to the sweet face, and she was not slow to avail herself of the chance of a moment's rest. Miss Hepsy sniffed, but made no audible demur. "What splendid fruit, Miss Hepsy!" said the visitor after a moment's silence; "I have seen none like it in Pendlepoint this fall." "It's well enough," said Miss Hepsy, a little mollified.
"Not yet; you had to be asked first. If you had said no, I should not have thought of mentioning it to Lucy at all." "If Lucy wants to go, I'm willin'; but it'll be a queer house without her." "Thank you, Miss Hepsy," said Carrie, and bent forward and kissed her. "I think you will not regret it. It will soon pass, and will do Lucy a world of good.
It'll be a mighty difference to expense havin' other two mouths to feed an' backs to clothe." "An' what I'm to make of two fine gentry children, as Hetty's are sure to be, round all the time, I don't know," said Miss Hepsy, whisking off a griddle cake with unnecessary vigour. "I declare Hetty might have had more sense than think we could do with 'em. I'm rare upset about it, I can tell ye."
Just as the old eight-day clock in the lobby solemnly struck four, there was a loud knock at the back door, and the post-messenger from Pendlepoint strode into the kitchen, holding in his hand a black-edged letter. "Bad news for ye, Miss Hepsy, I doubt," he said. "It'll be from your sister in Newhaven, I reckon."
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