“Araminta Lee is a bad, un-grate-ful girl,” she warbled, to a tune the like of which no mortal had ever heard before.  “She fell off of a step-lad-der, and sprained her an-kle, and the play-doc-tor said it was broke in or-der to get more mon-ey, breaks being more val-u-able than sprains.  Araminta Lee is lay-ing in bed like a la-dy, while her poor old aunt works her fingers to the bone, to pay for doc-tor’s bills and nursin’.  Four dollars and a half,” she chanted, mournfully, “and no-body to pay it but a poor old aunt who has to work her fin-gers to the bone.  Four dollars and a half, four dollars and a half—­almost five dollars.  Araminta thinks she will get out of work by pretending to be sick, but it is not so, not so.  Araminta will find out she is much mis-taken.  She will do the Fall clean-ing all alone, alone, and we do not think there will be any sprained an-kles, nor any four dollars—­”

Doctor Ralph Dexter appeared in the doorway, his face flaming with wrath.  Miss Mehitable continued to sing, apparently unconcerned, though her heart pounded violently against her ribs.  By a swift change of words and music, she was singing “Rock of Ages,” as any woman is privileged to do, when cleaning house, or at any other time.

But the young man still stood there, his angry eyes fixed upon her.  The scrutiny made Miss Mehitable uncomfortable, and at length she descended from the ladder, still singing, ostensibly to refill her pail.

“Let me hide—­” warbled Miss Hitty, tremulously, attempting to leave the room.

Doctor Ralph effectually barred the way.  “I should think you’d want to hide,” he said, scornfully.  “If I hear of anything; like this again, I’ll send in that bill I told you of.  I know a lawyer who can collect it.”

“If you do,” commented Miss Mehitable, ironically, “you know more ’n I do.”  She tried to speak with assurance, but her soul was quaking within her.  Was it possible that any one knew she had over three hundred dollars safely concealed in the attic?

“I mean exactly what I say,” continued Ralph.  “If you so much as climb these stairs again, you and I will have trouble,”

Sniffing disdainfully, Miss Mehitable went down into the kitchen, no longer singing.  “You’ll have to finish your own cleanin’,” she said to Miss Evelina.  “That blackmailing play-doctor thinks it ain’t good for my health to climb ladders.  He’s afraid I’ll fall off same as Minty did and he hesitates to take more of my money.”

“I’d much rather you wouldn’t do any more,” replied Miss Evelina, kindly.  “You have been very good to me, ever since I came here, and I appreciate it more than I can tell you.  I’m going to clean my own house, for, indeed, I’m ashamed of it.”

Miss Hitty grunted unintelligibly, gathered up her paraphernalia, and prepared to depart.  “When Minty’s well,” she said, “I’ll come back and be neighbourly.”

“I hope you’ll come before that,” responded Miss Evelina.  “I shall miss you if you don’t.”