ght
after. And you needn't bother to lock the buildin's another night.
Course, we do have keys an' keep 'em hung in their places, but as for
usin' 'em--Why, who in Marsden would steal a cent's worth?"

The deacon felt he had been bidden to take himself away, yet with
nothing learned; and as he slowly adjusted his plush cap and pulled its
ear-tabs down, he fixed a facetious glance upon the housekeeper, making
one more effort toward enlightenment, saying:

"I admit Marsden an honest village, less I never'd a-sold the farm an'
moved in. But what's been in the past ain't no pattern for the futur'.
Course, you hain't had no occasion for bars an' bolts, heretofore, but
hereafter--hereafter--with that bag or box or trunk of diamonds--a gold
box it is, too, they say--or them big lumps of gold out the
mine--prudence is advisable. Good night."

He went out, rather noisily closing the door behind him; and, fairly
snatching up the plate of toast, Susanna repaired to the room where, in
an unlighted gloom, Eunice awaited her supper.

"My suz! Eunice, why didn't you light up 'fore this? I meant to do it
myself, but what with runnin' up-stairs to tend to Moses an' showin'
that blunderheaded deacon the ways of doin' our chores, I let it go."

Eunice rose to do as suggested. Indeed, she had been sitting so absorbed
in her own thoughts that she had not observed the coming of nightfall;
but Susanna interposed:

"You set still, Eunice Maitland, till I get all the lamps lit there is.
I've got to have a chance to see whether I'm awake or dreamin'. I want
to see square into your own face, an' learn if you're bein' deceived or
are deceivin' me. Here's that little mis'able Jimmy Pettijohn--"

"Little, Susanna?"

"Yes, little. Always was an' always will be. His outside has growed big
enough in all conscience, but his inside has stayed the size of a
pin-point, same as it was born. And Deacon Meakin, that's always had the
reputation of common sense, a-insistin' that a gold mow has been found
in our woods; or if not that, then a box--a shiny box of--My suz!
Eunice--Eunice--what is the matter?"

Miss Maitland had risen and stood staring incredulously at the
housekeeper. She was trembling violently and her face had turned paler
than the other had ever seen it. She opened her lips to speak, but words
seemed slow in coming, and after a moment she sank back in her chair,
murmuring only:

"Oh, Susanna! How dreadful!"

"Eunice, be you sick?"