According to tradition, one was
fifty-four the other fifty-five years of age. An exclamation broke
from the lips of one. It sounded like the letter _y_ whispered
quickly.
"Y!" the other answered.
"It might make a match," said Mr. Blount, the trustee, smiling.
"Y! Samuel Blount!" said the younger one, coming near and smiting
him playfully on the elbow. "You stop!"
Miss Letitia began laughing silently. They never laughed aloud.
"If he didn't murder us," said Miss S'mantha, doubtfully.
"Nonsense," said the trustee; "I'll answer for him."
"Can't tell what men'll do," she persisted weakly. "When I was in
Albany with Alma Haskins, a man came 'long an' tried t' pass the
time o' day with us. We jes' looked t'other way an' didn't preten'
t' hear him. It's awful t' think what might 'a' happened."
She wiped invisible tears with an embroidered handkerchief. The
dear lady had spent a good part of her life thinking of that narrow
escape.
"If he wa'n't too partic'lar," said Miss Letitia, who had been
laughing at this maiden fear of her sister.
"If he would mind his business, we--we might take him for one
week," said Miss S'mantha. She glanced inquiringly at her sister.
Pages:
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133