said, holding aloft a pail heaped
with fruit. "See what beauties they are! You shall have a royal
shortcake."

Ellen's appreciation for some reason was, however, scanty and confused.
She averted her glance from her niece's face, and even at noontime when
the girl appeared bearing a marvelously baked and yet more marvelously
decorated masterpiece of culinary art, she had not regained sufficient
poise to partake of the delicacy in any mood save that of furtive and
guilty silence.

Lucy, ever sympathetic, ventured the fear that the invalid was over-tired,
and after the meal drew the shades that her aunt might rest.

In the dim light Ellen seemed more at ease and presently fell into a deep
slumber that lasted until midnight and was broken only by some phantasy of
her dreams which intermittently brought from her lips a series of
muttered execrations and bitter, insinuating laughs.

Toward morning she roused herself and gave a feeble cry of pain. Instantly
alert, Melvina hastened to her bedside. But by the time a candle was
lighted all human aid was vain. Ellen Webster was dead.

CHAPTER XV

ELLEN'S VENGEANCE

It was useless to pretend that Ellen's death did not bring to Lucy Webster
a sense of relief and freedom. It was as if some sinister, menacing power
that had suppressed every spontaneous impulse of her nature had suddenly
been removed and left her free at last to be herself. Until now she had
not realized how tired she was,--not alone physically tired but tired of
groping her way to avoid the constant friction which life with her aunt
engendered.

For the first few days after the funeral she kept Melvina with her and did
nothing but rest. Then returning energy brought back her normal desire for
action, and she began to readjust her plans. Together the two women
cleaned the house from top to bottom, rooting into trunks, chests, and
cupboards, and disposing of much of the litter that Ellen had accumulated.
Afterward Melvina took her leave, and Lucy turned her mind to
renovations.

She would have new paper and fresh paint, she decided; also the
long-coveted chintz hangings; and to this end she would make an expedition
to the village to see what could be procured there in the way of artistic
materials. It might be necessary for her to go to Concord, or even to
Boston for the things she wanted.

In the meantime, since she was driving to town, perhaps she had better
take along her aunt's will. There must