“Anyhow, she got burnt and got burnt awful, and it was at his house that it happened.  It was shameless, the way Evelina carried on.  Why, if you’ll believe me, she’d actually go to his house when there wa’n’t no need of it—­nobody sick, nor no medicine to be bought, nor anything.  Some said they was goin’ to be married.”

The scorn which Miss Mehitable managed to throw into the word “married” indicated that the state was the crowning ignominy of the race.  The girl’s cheek flamed 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, 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.”