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Updated: June 15, 2025
Goodbye!" With a rustle of stiffly starched garments Miss Mehitable took her departure, carefully closing the door and avoiding the appearance of haste. This was an effort, for every fibre of her being ached to get back to the clearing house, where she might speculate upon Evelina's return.
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.
Anthony Dexter smiled at the tall, straight young fellow who sat opposite him. He did not care about the case but he found endless satisfaction in Ralph. "What was it?" he asked, idly. "Broken ankle. I only happened to get it because you were out. I was accused of being a 'play doctor, but, under the circumstances, I had to do." "Miss Mehitable?" queried Doctor Dexter, with lifted brows.
"He told me," went on Miss Mehitable, in the manner of a judge pronouncing sentence upon a criminal, "that at any cost I must trample down this godless uprising, and assert my rightful authority. 'Honour thy father and thy mother, the Bible says, and I'm your father and mother, rolled into one.
Miss Mehitable felt that the atmosphere was getting very warm. "Come here, Pete," she said. "I want to show you my kitchen." The dwarf walked slowly backward to the door, his eyes on the young couple, as if he feared to let them out of his sight lest they vanish and he waken. "Come on, Charlotte." The three disappeared, Miss Mehitable urging Pete by the shoulder.
Even the three hearty brutes and it took him but a glance to see that two of them were drunk, and that the third, being a sober rascal, was the more dangerous hardly ceased their merry torment of the young negro in their midst when he came up with them. "I know that boy," he said. "He is the grandson of Aunt Mehitable. What are you doing with him?"
"Me and the minister," announced Miss Mehitable, imperiously, "have come to take Minty home!" In the Shadow of the Cypress The house seemed lonely without Araminta. Miss Evelina missed the child more than she had supposed she could ever miss any one. She had grown to love her, and, too, she missed the work.
Throughout the day, Miss Mehitable did not speak to her erring niece, but Araminta felt it to be a relief, rather than a punishment. In the afternoon, the emancipated young woman put on her best gown a white, cross-barred muslin which she had made herself. It was not Sunday, and Araminta was forbidden to wear the glorified raiment save on occasions of high state.
Her brisk, active manner was gone and she moved slowly. She did not once look up as Araminta came in. "Good-morning, Aunt Hitty!" cried the girl, pirouetting around the bare floor. "Isn't this the beautifullest morning that ever was, and aren't you glad you're alive?" "No," returned Miss Mehitable, acidly; "I am not."
Mehitable Ann, beloved of young Soapenlocks, vaults lightly over a barrier and with unspoken prayer lays hold on the unstable trapeze mounting aloft in air. Jerusha, comeliest of her sex, ties herself in a double bow-knot, and meditates upon the doctrine of election. O, blessed temple of grace divine! O, innocence and youth and simple faith! O, water and molasses and unsalted butter!
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