A Spinner in the Sun

Meh

ly in her sleep. The mocking dream vanished and she awoke to feel, as always, the iron, icy hand that unmer

veil securely to her hair. She went downstairs slowly, clinging to the railing fr

tmosphere. The March wind blew strong and clear through the lonely rooms, stirring the dust before it and

wl over her head, appeared on the threshold, peered

me most to death! I saw the smoke coming from the chimney

tiffened, and

the woman again, mildly defiant,

Evelina, almost inaud

in. "Don't you remember me? Why, Evelina, yo

ubbornly. She ransacked her memory for a forgotten catastrophe, a qu

ammered Miss Evelina, in a low voic

g been spared marriage. Mehitable is my name, but folks calls me

a, "I remember," though sh

n the manner of one invited to do so, she removed her shawl and sat down, fu

d plastered down on both sides, as one guessed, by a brush and cold water. Her black eyes were bright and keen, and her gold-bowed spectacles were habitually worn half-way down her nose. Her m

over, occasionally, I don't come apart in the back. For my part, I never could see sense in wearing clothes that's held by a safety-pin in the back instead of good, firm cloth, and, moreover, a belt that either slides around or pinch

ble shelter of chiffon awed Miss Mehitable, but she was not a woman to give up easily when embarked upon the quest for knowledge.

squarely on the floor, and tucked her immaculate white apron closely about her knees. "Wh

" murmured M

t late

es

epy to get up and see. I thought I must be dreaming, but I was sure I heard somebody on the walk. If I'd kno

ss Evelina, after an

d Miss Hitty, with a new gentleness o

veiled face yet farther away from her guest. Seeing that her hostess did not intend to

o bring up. You know my poor sister got married. She ought to have known better, but she didn't. She just put her head into the noose, and it slipped up on her, as I told her it would, both before and after the ceremony. Hav

been through would have tried the patience of a saint, and Barbara wasn't no saint. None of the Smith family

as if 't was a doughnut. She was forever cooking and washing dishes and sweeping up after him. When he come into the house, she'd run for the broom and dustpan, and follow him around, sweeping up, and if you'll believe me, the brute scolded her for it. He actuall

ept to say 'yes' and 'no.' I've taught her to steer clear of 'em, and even when she was only seven years old, she'd r

. He wipes his feet sometimes for as much as five minutes when he's coming in, and mostly, when it's pleasant weather, he's out. When he's in, he usually stays in his room, except at meals. He don't

fter himself. I wouldn't have had him, on Araminta's account, only that there wasn't no other place for him to stay, and it was put

r-meeting, and he ain't never said one word about hell. It's all of the joys of Heaven and a sure reward in the hereafter for everybody that's done what they think is right-nothing much, mind you, about what is right

f you'll believe me, with the worst drunkard and chicken thief in town. The very idea of a minister associatin' with sinners! Mr. Brewster would never have done that. Why, A

en any open talk, except in the Ladies' Aid Society, but public opinion is settin' pretty strongly in that direction." Miss Hitty dro

nsidered, and it's highly important for Araminta to have the right kind of influence. Of course Mr. Thorpe don't talk on religious

r come here that beats anything I've ever heard tell of. His name is Tom Barnaby and he's set up a store on the edge of

tuck in it, and he's gone into competition with Mrs. Alle

say Barnaby's goods is a great deal cheaper, but I'd feel it my duty to buy of a woman, anyhow, even though

d another sign says to put the money in the drawer and make your own change. The blacksmith was at him for doing business so shiftless, and Barnaby laughed and said that if anybody wanted anything he had bad enough to steal it, whoever it was, he was good and w

'd just step in for a few minutes and take a look at his goods. Elmiry Jones says his calico is beautiful, and that for her part, s

chair. "What was it?" thought Miss Hitty. "I was here, and I knew at the

ooryard had become a sort of clearing house for neighbourhood gossip. Travellers going and coming stopped at Miss Hitty's to drink from the moss-grown well, give their bit

r went with her to take care of her, and then her mother died, all at once, of heart failure. It happened the same week old Mis' Hicks had a doctor fr

d in several places. The shoes which tapped impatiently on the floor were undeniably shabby, though they had been carefully blacked. Against the unrelieved sombr

I'm glad you've come back. It seems like old times for us to be settin' her

lsively at the arm of the haircloth

o feeling so sorry about something that they can't never get over it, and they keep on going round and round all the time like a squirrel in

Evelina sprang to her feet, her

ame back, bringing a pretty young wife. She's dead, but he has a son, Ralph, who's away studying to be a doctor. He'll graduate this Spring and then he's coming here to help his father with his practice. Doctor Dexter's getti

dness knows it needs it. I'd just as soon send over all your meals till you get settled-'t wouldn't be any trouble. Or, you can come over to my house if you wouldn't mind eating with the minister. It seems queer t

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

a nice hot supper, for Miss Evelina seemed to be far from st

nd fruitless thought. Swiftly, as in a lightning

over to Doctor Dexter's, and they took her on the train t

ckly. "She must have been burnt awful," she thought. "Poor soul!