Ruth regretted the cobwebs and decided not to interfere,should the tiny spinners take advantage of Aunt Jane's absence.She found an old chair which was unsteady on its rockers but not yet depraved enough to betray one's confidence.Moving it to the window,she sat down and looked out at the sea,where the slow boom of the surf came softly from the shore,mingled with the liquid melody of returning breakers.
The first grey of twilight had come upon the world before she thought of going downstairs.A match-safe hung upon the window casing,newly filled,and,mindful of her trust,she lighted the lamp and closed the window.Then a sudden scream from the floor below startled her.
"Miss Thorne!Miss Thorne!"cried a shrill voice."Come here!Quick!"
White as a sheet,Ruth flew downstairs and met Hepsey in the hall."What on earth is the matter!"she gasped.
"Joe's come with your trunk,"responded that volcanic young woman,amiably;"where'd you want it put?""In the south front room,"she answered,still frightened,but glad nothing more serious had happened."You mustn't scream like that.""Supper's ready,"resumed Hepsey,nonchalantly,and Ruth followed her down to the little dining-room.
As she ate,she plied the maid with questions."Does Miss Hathaway light that lamp in the attic every night?""Yes'm.She cleans it and fills it herself,and she puts it out every morning.She don't never let me touch it.""Why does she keep it there?"
"D'know.She d'know,neither."
"Why,Hepsey,what do you mean?Why does she do it if she doesn't know why she does it?""D'know.'Cause she wants to,I reckon."
"She's been gone a week,hasn't she?"
"No'm.Only 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 Iwas 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:"You make the best biscuits I ever tasted,Hepsey."The girl smiled,but made no reply.
"What makes you think Miss Ainslie has anything to do with the light?"she inquired after a little.
"'Cause there wasn't no light in that winder when I first come--leastways,not as I know of--and after I'd been here a week or so,Miss Hathaway,she come back from there one day looking kinder strange.She didn't say much;but the next mornin'she goes down to town and buys that lamp,and she saws off them table legs herself.Every night since,that light's been a-goin',and she puts it out herself every mornin'before she comes downstairs.""Perhaps she and Miss Ainslie had been talking of shipwreck,and she thought she would have a little lighthouse of her own,"Miss Thorne suggested,when the silence became oppressive.
"P'raps so,"rejoined Hepsey.She had become stolid again.
