o good
as to examine their claims to her charity. In the meantime I will wait
in the parlor, and must trouble you for a glass of water."

She thrust the petitions into Elsie's hand, and attempted to slip into
the hall, through the partial opening of the door which the servant
held during the parley; but, planting her massive frame directly in
the way, the resolute woman effectually barred entrance, and, pointing
to an iron _tete-a-tete_ on the portico, said, decisively,--

"I beg pardon, madam, but you will find a seat there; and I will bring
the water while Mrs. Gerome reads your letters. If you are fatigued, I
will hand you luncheon and some wine."

Mortified and enraged, Mrs. Spiewell grew scarlet, but threw herself
into the seat designated, resolved to snatch a glimpse of the interior
the instant the servant had disappeared.

Very softly Elsie closed and securely latched the door on the inside,
knowing that at that moment her mistress was sitting in the oriel
window of the front parlor.

In vain the visitor tried and twisted the bolt, and, completely
baffled, tears of chagrin moistened her eyes. She had scarcely time to
regain her seat, when Elsie reappeared, bearing on a handsome salver a
wine-glass, silver goblet, and an elegant basket filled with cake.

"Mrs. Gerome presents her compliments, and sends you this fifty dollar
bill for whatever society you represent."

Too thoroughly discomfited to conceal her pique and indignation, Mrs.
Spiewell snatched letters and donation, and, without lingering an
instant, swept haughtily down the steps, "shaking off the dust of her
feet" against "Solitude" and its incorrigible owner.

An innocent impertinence once coldly frustrated soon takes unto itself
a sting and branding-irons, and thus, what was originally merely idle
curiosity, becomes bitter malice; and henceforth the worthy minister's
gossiping wife lost no opportunity of inveighing against the
superciliousness of the stranger, and of insinuating that some very
extraordinary circumstances led her "to fear that something was
radically wrong about that poor Mrs. Gerome, for troubles that could
not be poured into the sympathetic ears of pastors and of pastors'
wives must be very dark, indeed."

Whenever the name of the new-comer was mentioned, Mrs. Spiewell
compressed her lips, shook her head, and shrugged her round shoulders;
and, of course, persons present surmised that the "minister's lady"
was acquainted wit