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Updated: May 20, 2025
Miss Mehitable's mental perturbation and physical weariness had given her plump face a troubled cast, accented by the fact that her hat was slightly askew. The young man hurried forward and was in time to ease his portly friend down the last step of her car. "Howdy, Miss Mehit?" he said. "You look as if the great city hadn't treated you well."
"I wish I could have a lamp like this in my room," he remarked. "It gives a good light." "You can have this one," returned Dexter, with an hysterical laugh, "I was not begging," said Mr. Thorpe, with dignity. "Miss Mehitable's lamps are all small. Some of them give no more light than a candle." "'How far that little candle throws its beams," quoted Dexter.
She was clad in a sombre calico Mother Hubbard, of Miss Mehitable's painstaking manufacture, and hopping back and forth on the bare floor of her room at Miss Evelina's. "Yes," answered Doctor Ralph, "I think it's quite as good as new."
Miss Mehitable had a secret fear that the bloom had been brushed from her rose. Until the accident, Araminta had scarcely been out of her sight since she brought her home, a toddling infant. Miss Mehitable's mind had unerringly controlled two bodies until Araminta fell off the ladder. Now, the other mind began to show distressing signs of activity.
All the dead and buried crimes of the small boys of the village were excavated from the past and charged to Ralph Dexter. Miss Mehitable brought the record fully up to the time he left Rushton for college, having been prepared for entrance by his father. Then she began with Araminta. First upon the schedule were Miss Mehitable's painful emotions when Barbara Smith had married Henry Lee.
You've done all them other quilts real good," she added, grudgingly. Araminta had her own surprise ready, but it was not of a pleasant nature. "Thank you, Aunt Hitty," she replied, "but I'm not going to make any more quilts, for a while, at any rate." Miss Mehitable's lower jaw dropped in amazement. Never before had Araminta failed to obey her suggestions.
"It is a peculiar coincidence," mused Thorpe, He was thinking aloud now. "In the old house just beyond Miss Mehitable's, farther up, you know, a woman has just come to live who seems to have passed through something like that. It would be strange, would it not, if she were the one whom your friend had wronged?" "Very," answered Dexter, in a voice the other scarcely heard.
"How does it affect the Keefe springtime to have her walk out in it?" inquired Ben solicitously. "I'll tell you, Ben," said his mother, sympathetic with the anxiety in Miss Mehitable's face, "bring Miss Upton over to see our apple-blossoms, and you can have your talk at our house." Relief overspread Miss Upton's round countenance. "Certainly.
She saw that Piper Tom was right; had she forgiven him, she would have been free long ago. She shrank no longer from her kind, but yearned, instead, for friendly companionship. Once she had taken off her veil and started down the road to Miss Mehitable's, but the habit of the years was strong upon her, and she turned back, affrighted, when she came within sight of the house.
Miss Mehitable's feet moved swiftly away from the house. She was going to the residence of the oldest and most orthodox deacon in Thorpe's church, to ask for guidance in dealing with her wayward charge, but Araminta never dreamed of this. Dusk came, the sweet, June dusk, starred with fireflies and clouded with great white moths.
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