it over her head. She went to
the closet to hang it up and recoiled. A strong smell of lovage came
in her nostrils; a purple gown near the door swung softly against her
face as if impelled by some wind from within. All the pegs were filled
with garments not her own, mostly of somber black, but there were some
strange-patterned silk things and satins.

Suddenly Louisa Stark recovered her nerve. This, she told herself, was
something distinctly tangible. Somebody had been taking liberties with
her wardrobe. Somebody had been hanging some one else's clothes in her
closet. She hastily slipped on her dress again and marched straight
down to the parlour. The people were seated there; the widow and the
minister were playing backgammon. The librarian was watching them.
Miss Amanda Gill was mending beside the large lamp on the centre table.
They all looked up with amazement as Louisa Stark entered. There was
something strange in her expression. She noticed none of them except
Amanda.

"Where is your sister?" she asked peremptorily of her.

"She's in the kitchen mixing up bread," Amanda quavered; "is there
anything--" But the school-teacher was gone.

She found Sophia Gill standing by the kitchen table kneading dough with
dignity. The young girl Flora was bringing some flour from the pantry.
She stopped and stared at Miss Stark, and her pretty, delicate young
face took on an expression of alarm.

Miss Stark opened at once upon the subject in her mind.

"Miss Gill," said she, with her utmost school-teacher manner, "I wish
to inquire why you have had my own clothes removed from the closet in
my room and others substituted?"

Sophia Gill stood with her hands fast in the dough, regarding her. Her
own face paled slowly and reluctantly, her mouth stiffened.

"What? I don't quite understand what you mean, Miss Stark," said she.

"My clothes are not in the closet in my room and it is full of things
which do not belong to me," said Louisa Stark.

"Bring me that flour," said Sophia sharply to the young girl, who
obeyed, casting timid, startled glances at Miss Stark as she passed
her. Sophia Gill began rubbing her hands clear of the dough. "I am
sure I know nothing about it," she said with a certain tempered
asperity. "Do you know anything about it, Flora?"

"Oh, no, I don't know anything about it, Aunt Sophia," answered the
young girl, fluttering.

Then Sophia turned to Miss Stark. "I'll go upstairs with you, M