six days. It'll be a week to-morrer."

Hepsey's remarks were short and jerky, as a rule, and had a certain
explosive force.

"Hasn't the lamp been lighted since she went away?"

"Yes'm. I was to do it till you come, and after you got here I was to
ask you every night if you'd forgot it."

Ruth smiled because Aunt Jane's old-fashioned exactness lingered in her
wake. "Now see here, Hepsey," she began kindly, "I don't know and you
don't know, but I'd like to have you tell me what you think about it."

"I d' know, as you say, mum, but I think--" here she lowered her
voice--"I think it has something to do with Miss Ainslie."

"Who is Miss Ainslie?"

"She's a peculiar woman, Miss Ainslie is," the girl explained, smoothing
her apron, "and she lives down the road a piece, in the valley as, you
may say. She don't never go nowheres, Miss Ainslie don't, but folks goes
to see her. She's got a funny house--I've been inside of it sometimes
when I've been down on errands for Miss Hathaway. She ain't got no
figgered wall paper, nor no lace curtains, and she ain't got no rag
carpets neither. Her floors is all kinder funny, and she's got heathen
things spread down onto'em. Her house is full of heathen things, and
sometimes she wears'em."

"Wears what, Hepsey? The 'heathen things' in the house?"

"No'm. Other heathen things she's got put away somewheres. She's got
money, I guess, but she's got furniture in her parlour that's just like
what Miss Hathaway's got set away in the attic. We wouldn't use them
kind of things, nohow," she added complacently.

"Does she live all alone?"

"Yes'm. Joe, he does her errands and other folks stops in sometimes, but
Miss Ainslie ain't left her front yard for I d' know how long. Some says
she's cracked, but she's the best housekeeper round here, and if she
hears of anybody that's sick or in trouble, she allers sends'em things.
She ain't never been up here, but Miss Hathaway, she goes down there
sometimes, and she'n Miss Ainslie swaps cookin' quite regler. I have to
go down there with a plate of somethin' Miss Hathaway's made, and Miss
Ainslie allers says: 'Wait just a moment, please, Hepsey, I would like
to send Miss Hathaway a jar of my preserves.'"

She relapsed unconsciously into imitation of Miss Ainslie's speech. In
the few words, softened, and betraying a quaint stateliness, Ruth caught
a glimpse of an old-fashioned gentlewoman, reserved and yet gracious.

She folded her napkin, saying