ipt of a woman's letter, was Miss Hitty's own concise,
permanent, neatly labelled opinion of the family or individual, the
latter thrown in without extra charge.

"Perhaps you didn't know," remarked the minister, "that such a woman
had come." His tone was inquiring. It seemed to him that something
must be wrong if she did not know.

"Minty," said Miss Hitty, abruptly, "leave the room!"

Araminta rose, gathered up her patchwork, and went out, carefully
closing the door. It was only in moments of great tenderness that
her aunt called her "Minty."

The light footsteps died away upon the stairs. Tactlessly, the
minister persisted. "Don't you know?" he asked.

Miss Mehitable turned upon him. "If I did," she replied, hotly, "I
wouldn't tell any prying, gossiping man. I never knew before it was
part of a minister's business to meddle in folks' private affairs.
You'd better be writing your sermon and studyin' up on hell."

"I--I--" stammered the minister, taken wholly by surprise, "I only
hoped to give her the consolation of the church."

"Consolation nothing!" snorted Miss Hitty. "Let her alone!" She went
out of the room and slammed the door furiously, leaving the Reverend
Austin Thorpe overcome with deep and lasting amazement.

VI

Pipes o' Pan

Sleet had fallen in the night, but at sunrise, the storm ceased. Miss
Evelina had gone to sleep, lulled into a sense of security by the icy
fingers tapping at her cobwebbed window pane. She awoke in a
transfigured world. Every branch and twig was encased in crystal, upon
which the sun was dazzling. Jewels, poised in midair, twinkled with
the colours of the rainbow. On the tip of the cypress at the gate was
a ruby, a sapphire gleamed from the rose-bush, and everywhere were
diamonds and pearls.

Frosty vapour veiled the spaces between the trees and javelins of
sunlight pierced it here and there. Beyond, there were glimpses of
blue sky, and drops of water, falling from the trees, made a musical,
cadence upon the earth beneath.

Miss Evelina opened her window still more. The air was peculiarly soft
and sweet. It had the fragrance of opening buds and growing things and
still had not lost the tang of the frost.

She drew a long breath of it and straightway was uplifted, though
seemingly against her will. Spring was stirring at the heart of the
world, sending new currents of sap into the veins of the trees, new
aspirations into dead roots and fibres, f