lamed into crimson, for her own mother had
been married, and everybody knew it. Sometimes the deep disgrace
seemed almost too much for Araminta to endure.

"That's what comes of it," explained Miss Hitty, patiently, as a
teacher might point to a demonstration clearly made out on a
blackboard for an eager class. "If she'd stayed at home as a girl
should stay, and hadn't gone to Doctor Dexter's, she wouldn't have
got burnt. Anybody can see that.

"There was so much goin' on at the time that I sorter lost track of
everything, otherwise I'd have known more about it, but I guess I
know as much as anybody ever knew. Evelina was to Doctor
Dexter's--shameless hussy that she was--and she got burnt. She was
there all the afternoon and they took her to the hospital in the city
on the night train and she stayed there until she was well, but she
never came back here until just now. Her mother went with her to
take care of her and before Evelina came out of the hospital, her
mother keeled over and died. Sarah Grey always had a weak heart and
a weak head to match it. If she hadn't have had, she'd have brought
up Evelina different,

"Neither of 'em was ever in the house again. Neither one ever came
back, even for their clothes. They had plenty of money, then, and
they just bought new ones. When the word come that Evelina was
burnt, Sarah Grey just put on her hat and locked her doors and run up
to Doctor Dexter's. Nobody ever heard from them again until Jim
Gardner's second cousin on his father's side sent a paper with Sarah
Grey's obituary in it. And now, after twenty-five years, Evelina's
come back.

"The poor soul's just sittin' there, in all the dust and cobwebs.
When I get time, I aim to go over there and clean up the house for
her--'t ain't decent for a body to live like that. I'll take you
with me, to help scrub, and what I'm telling you all this for is so
's you won't ask any questions, nor act as if you thought it was
queer for a woman to wear a white veil all the time. You'll have to
act as if nothing was out of the way at all, and not look at her any
more than you can help. Just pretend it's the style to wear a veil
pinned to your hair all the time, and you've been wearin' one right
along and have forgot and left it to home. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Aunt Hitty."

"And when people come here to find out about it, you're not to say
anything. Leave it all to me. 'T ain't necessary for you to lie,