Then she sent Araminta into the next room with the ladder, and began on the furniture.  This, too, was thoroughly scrubbed, and as much paint and varnish as would come off was allowed to come.  “It’ll have to be painted,” thought Miss Hitty, scrubbing happily, “but when it is painted, it’ll be clean underneath, and that’s more than it has been.  Evelina ’ll sleep clean to-night for the first time since she come here.  There’s a year’s washin’ to be done in this house and before I get round to that, I’ll lend her some of my clean sheets and a quilt or two of Minty’s.”

Adjourning to the back yard, Miss Mehitable energetically beat a mattress until no more dust rose from it.  With Araminta’s aid she carried it upstairs and put it in place.  “I’m goin’ home now after my dinner and Evelina’s,” said Miss Hitty, “and when I come back I’ll bring sheets and quilts for this.  You clean till I come back, and then you can go home for your own lunch.”

Araminta assented and continued her work.  She never questioned her aunt’s dictates, and this was why there was no friction between the two.

When Miss Mehitable came back, however, half buried under the mountain of bedding, she was greeted by a portentous silence.  Hurrying upstairs, she discovered that Araminta had fallen from the ladder and was in a white and helpless heap on the floor, while Miss Evelina chafed her hands and sprinkled her face with water.

“For the land’s sake!” cried Miss Hitty.  “What possessed Minty to go and fall off the ladder!  Help me pick her up, Evelina, and we’ll lay her on the bed in the room we’ve just cleaned.  She’ll come to presently.  She ain’t hurt.”

But Araminta did not “come to.”  Miss Mehitable tried everything she could think of, and fairly drenched the girl with cold water, without avail.

“What did it?” she demanded with some asperity.  “Did she see anything that scared her?”

“No,” answered Miss Evelina, shrinking farther back into her veil.  “I was downstairs and heard her scream, then she fell and I ran up.  It was just a minute or two before you came in.”

“Well,” sighed Miss Hitty, “I suppose we’ll have to have a doctor.  You fix that bed with the clean things I brought.  It’s easy to do it without movin’ her after the under sheet is on and I’ll help you with that.  Don’t pour any more cold water on her.  If water would have brung her to she’d be settin’ up by now.  And don’t get scared.  Minty ain’t hurt.”

With this comforting assurance, Miss Hitty sped down-stairs, but her mind was far from at rest.  At the gate she stopped, suddenly confronted by the fact that she could not bring Anthony Dexter to Evelina’s house.

“What’ll I do!” moaned Miss Hitty.  “What’ll I do!  Minty’ll die if she ain’t dead now!”

The tears rolled down her wrinkled cheeks, but she ran on, as fast as her feet would carry her, toward Doctor Dexter’s.  “The way’ll be opened,” she thought—­“I’m sure it will.”