orror, but she
heard the door close and saw Lily flit back across the yard with a
feeling of immeasurable relief. Then she heard her aunt's voice at
her door, opened a narrow crack.

"Are you warm enough in here?" asked Aunt Maria.

"Yes, plenty warm enough."

"You'd better not light a lamp," said Aunt Maria, coolly; "I just
told that Merrill girl that you had gone out."

"But I hadn't," said Maria.

"I knew it; but there are times when a lie ain't a lie, it's only the
truth upside-down. I knew that you didn't want that doll-faced thing
over here again. She had better stay at home and wait for her new
beau. She was all prinked up fit to kill. I told her you had gone
out, and I meant to, but you'd better not light your lamp for a
little while. It won't matter after a little while. I suppose the
beau will come, and she won't pay any attention to it. But if you
light it right away she'll think you've got back and come tearing
over here again."

"All right," said Maria. "I'll sit here a little while, and then I'll
light my lamp. I've got some work to do."

"I'm going into the other side, after I've finished the dishes," said
Aunt Maria.

"You won't--"

"No, I won't. Let George Ramsey chew his sour grapes if he wants to.
I sha'n't say anything about it. Anybody with any sense can't help
knowing a man of sense would have rather had you than Lily Merrill. I
ain't afraid of anybody thinking you're slighted." There was
indignant and acrid loyalty in Aunt Maria's tone. She closed the
door, as was her wont, with a little slam and went down-stairs. Aunt
Maria walked very heavily. Her steps jarred the house.

Maria continued sitting at her window. Presently a new light, a rosy
light of a lamp under a pink shade, flashed in her eyes. The parlor
in the Merrill house was lighted. Maria saw Lily draw down the
curtain, upon which directly appeared the shadows of growing plants
behind it in a delicate grace of tracery. Presently Maria saw a horse
and sleigh drive into the Merrill yard. She saw Mrs. Merrill open the
side-door, and Dr. Ellridge enter. Then she watched longer, and
presently a dark shadow of a man passed down the street, of which she
could see a short stretch from her window, and she saw him go to the
front door of the Merrill house. Maria knew that was George Ramsey.
She laughed a little, hysterical laugh as she sat there in the dark.
It was ridiculous, the two pairs of lovers in the two rooms! The
second-hand