ust over everything and the cobwebs
mentioned by Keziah draping the corners of the ceiling; this was the
dining room of the Regular parsonage as Grace saw it upon this, her
first visit. The dust and cobwebs were, in her eyes, the only novelties,
however. Otherwise, the room was like many others in Trumet, and, if
there had been one or two paintings of ships, would have been typical of
the better class.

"Phew!" exclaimed Keziah, sniffing disgustedly. "Musty and shut up
enough, ain't it? Down here in the dampness, and 'specially in the
spring, it don't take any time for a house to get musty if it ain't
aired out regular. Mr. Langley died only three months ago, but we've
been candidatin' ever since and the candidates have been boarded round.
There's been enough of 'em, too; we're awful hard to suit, I guess.
That's it. Do open some more blinds and a window. Fresh air don't hurt
anybody--unless it's spiders," with a glare at the loathed cobwebs.

The blinds and a window being opened, more light entered the room. Grace
glanced about it curiously.

"So this is going to be your new home now, Aunt Keziah," she observed.
"How queer that seems."

"Um--h'm. Does seem queer, don't it? Must seem queer to you to be so
near the headquarters of everything your uncle thinks is wicked. Smell
of brimstone any, does it?" she asked with a smile.

"No, I haven't noticed it. You've got a lot of cleaning to do. I wish I
could help. Look at the mud on the floor."

Keziah looked.

"Mud?" she exclaimed. "Why, so 'tis! How in the world did that come
here? Wet feet, sure's you're born. Man's foot, too. Cap'n Elkanah's,
I guess likely; though the prints don't look hardly big enough for his.
Elkanah's convinced that he's a great man and his boots bear him out
in it, don't they? Those marks don't look broad enough for his
understandin', but I guess he made 'em; nobody else could. Here's the
settin' room."

She threw open another door. A room gloomy with black walnut and
fragrant with camphor was dimly visible.

"Cheerful's a tomb, ain't it?" was Mrs. Coffin's comment. "Well, we'll
get some light and air in here pretty soon. Here's the front hall and
there's the front stairs. The parlor's off to the left. We won't bother
with that yet a while. This little place in here is what Mr. Langley
used to call his 'study.' Halloa! how this door sticks!"

The door did stick, and no amount of tugging could get it open, though
Grace added her efforts