“Not setting store by relations, and not wanting to have them under your roof, doesn’t go far in law nor common-sense to send folks to the madhouse,” old Lawyer Lang, who was famed for his sharp tongue, was reported to have said.  However, Mrs. Martha Loomis was somewhat comforted by her firm belief that either her own name or that of one of her daughters was in that sealed envelope kept by Lawyer Joshua Lang in his strong-box, and by her firm purpose to watch carefully lest Evelina prove derelict in fulfilling the two conditions whereby she held the property.

Larger peep-holes were soon cut away mysteriously in the high arbor-vitae hedge, and therein were often set for a few moments, when they passed that way, the eager eyes of Mrs. Martha or her daughter Flora or Fidelia Loomis.  Frequent calls they also made upon Evelina, living alone with the old woman Sarah Judd, who had been called in during her cousin’s illness, and they strolled into the garden, spying anxiously for withered leaves or dry stalks.  They at every opportunity interviewed the old man who assisted Evelina in her care of the garden concerning its welfare.  But small progress they made with him, standing digging at the earth with his spade while they talked, as if in truth his wits had gone therein before his body and he would uncover them.

Moreover, Mrs. Martha Loomis talked much slyly to mothers of young men, and sometimes with bold insinuations to the young men themselves, of the sad lot of poor young Evelina, condemned to a solitary and loveless life, and of her sweetness and beauty and desirability in herself, although she could not bring the old Squire’s money to her husband.  And once, but no more than that, she touched lightly upon the subject to the young minister, Thomas Merriam, when he was making a pastoral call.

“My heart bleeds for the poor child living all alone in that great house,” said she.  And she looked down mournfully, and did not see how white the young minister’s face turned.  “It seems almost a pity,” said she, furthermore—­“Evelina is a good housekeeper, and has rare qualities in herself, and so many get poor wives nowadays—­that some godly young man should not court her in spite of the will.  I doubt, too, if she would not have a happier lot than growing old over that garden, as poor Cousin Evelina did before her, even if she has a fine house to live in and a goodly sum in the bank.  She looks pindling enough lately.  I’ll warrant she has lost a good ten pound since poor Evelina was laid away, and—­”

But Thomas Merriam cut her short.  “I see no profit in discussing matters which do not concern us,” said he, and only his ministerial estate saved him from the charge of impertinence.

As it was, Martha Loomis colored high.  “I’ll warrant he’ll look out which side his bread is buttered on; ministers always do,” she said to her daughters after he had gone.  She never dreamed how her talk had cut him to the heart.