but you can keep your mouth shut. And I hope you see now what it
means to a woman to walk straight on her own path that the Lord has
laid out for her, and to let men alone. They're pizen, every one of
'em."

Nun-like, Araminta sat in her chair and sewed steadily at her dainty
seam, but, none the less, she was deeply stirred with pity for women
who so forgot themselves--who had not Aunt Hitty's superior wisdom.
At the end of the prayer which Miss Mehitable had taught the child,
and which the woman still repeated in her nightly devotions, was this
eloquent passage:

"And, Oh Lord, keep me from the contamination of marriage. For Thy
sake. Amen."

"Araminta," said Aunt Hitty, severely, "cover up your foot!"
Modestly, Araminta drew down her skirt. One foot was on the
immaculate footstool and her ankle was exposed to view--a lovely
ankle, in spite of the broad-soled, common-sense shoes which she
always wore.

"How often have I told you to keep your ankles covered ?" demanded
Miss Mehitable. "Suppose the minister had come in suddenly!
Suppose--upon my word! Speakin' of angels--if there ain't the
minister now!"

The Reverend Austin Thorpe came slowly up the brick-bordered path,
his head bowed in thought. He was painfully near-sighted, but he
refused to wear glasses. On the doorstep he paused and wiped his
feet upon the corn-husk mat until even Miss Mehitable, beaming at him
through the window, thought he was overdoing it. Unconsciously, she
took credit to herself for the minister's neatness.

Stepping carefully, lest he profane the hall carpet by wandering off
the rug, the minister entered the parlour, having first taken off his
coat and hat and hung them upon their appointed hooks in the hall.
It was cold, and the cheery warmth of the room beckoned him in. He
did not know that he tried Miss Hitty by trespassing, so to speak,
upon her preserves. She would have been better pleased if he
remained in his room when he was not at the table or out, but, to do
him justice, the reverend gentleman did not often offend her thus.

Araminta, blushing, took her foot from the footstool and pulled
feverishly at her skirts. As Mr. Thorpe entered the room, she did
not look up, but kept her eyes modestly upon her work.

"There ain't no need to tear out the gathers," Miss Hitty said, in a
warning undertone, referring to Aramlnta's skirts. "Why, Mr. Thorpe!
How you surprised me! Come in and set a spell," she added,
grudg