Part 7 (1/2)

”Charity dropped her knitting-work, seized one chair for her visitor, and placed herself on another in front of her, with both elbows on her knees, and her face as near Miss Pettingill's as possible, lest she should lose a word; exclaiming,

”'For the land's sake, make haste and begin. _Who did what?_ The cat's tail pointed north this morning, and I _knew_ it was the _fore-end of a runner_ of something.'

”'I declare, I don't know which end _to_ begin,' said Pettingill; '_such_ a piece of work! This is a wicked, abominable world, Charity.

You know that Mrs. Clark?'

”'Land alive! don't I though? Wasn't I the first one to tell that her husband ran off and left her; and that she was a flirt and extravagant? Not that I _knew_ she was, myself, but I heard tell so, and what you hear said is _most_ always true. Besides, she's pretty, and that's always against a woman, as you and I know, Pettingill. Who ever heard any body talk against _us_?' and she set her arms a-kimbo as if 'pistols for two' would be sent for, if they did! 'Well, what has the creature done _now_, Pettingill?'

”'Why, you know she boards at Deacon Ephraim Snow's--I wonder at his having her in his house, and he a _deacon_ too. But you know Mrs.

Clark has 'mazin pretty ways with her, and she's got round him somehow. Well, you know I do was.h.i.+ng for his wife, and speaking of _that_, she's horrid stingy of her soap. Well, t'other day she sent me up garret, as it rained, to hang up the clothes, and as I went by Mrs.

Clark's room, it struck me I'd just peep into the key-hole and listen a bit.' Here Charity drew up her chair so close that the tips of their noses met; saying, in a hoa.r.s.e whisper,

”'What _did_ you see?'

”'La! don't frighten me so,' said Pettingill; 'your eyes look like a cat's in the dark! I saw a very fine-looking gentleman--'

”'_I'll warrant it_,' said Charity, with a triumphant chuckle.

”'And I heard him say, 'Edith, dear--'

”Here Charity pushed back her chair and rolled up the whites of her eyes like a duck in a thunderstorm.

”'Edith dear,' says he, 'rely upon me; never heed these slanderous stories; I will be your protector.' There, Charity, what do you think of that?'

”'She is a church-member,' said Charity, thoughtfully, 'isn't she?

keep quiet, and watch her, the hypocrite! Did you say anything about it to Mrs. Snow, or the deacon!'

”'Not I,' said Pettingill; 'it would have fetched _me_ out, you know, for _listening_; but I'm convinced the man has a '_canister_' motive in going there.'

”'_Sinister_,' said Charity, reprovingly, who considered herself a scholar.

”'Well, _canister_ or _sinister_, it makes no difference to _me_,'

said Pettingill. 'I know what _I_ think of her. It's no use talking to the Snow's; _they_ won't believe anything against her.'

”'That's very true,' said Mrs. Snow, who had entered unperceived, and heard a great part of their conversation. 'Mrs. Clark has been with us six months, and is blameless and correct in her deportment. She has been shamefully ill-treated and slandered by her husband, as _I_ know, and the gentleman about whom you were getting up such a fine story is her _brother_, who has just returned from Europe. When he said he 'would protect her,' he intended to be as good as his word; and for your own sakes I would advise you to _bear it in mind_. I have the pleasure to wish you both good-morning.'

”'There's a tempest in a thimble,' said Charity, as she drew a long breath.

”'Ain't it, though!' said Pettingill. 'But I'll warrant we shall catch her tripping yet. These 'gra.s.s widows,' you know.'

”'Yes,' said Charity--'and so pretty, too. I never saw a _pretty_ woman that behaved herself.”

XXI.