"D' know. She d' know, neither."

"Why, Hepsey, what do you mean? Why does she do it if she doesn't
know why she does it?"

"D'know.'Cause she wants to, I reckon."

"She's been gone a week, hasn't she?"

"No'm. Only six days. It'll be a week to-morrer."

Hepsey's remarks were short and jerky, as a rule, and had a
certain explosive force.

"Hasn't the lamp been lighted since she went away?"

"Yes'm. I was to do it till you come, and after you got here I
was to ask you every night if you'd forgot it."

Ruth smiled because Aunt Jane's old-fashioned exactness lingered
in her wake. "Now see here, Hepsey," she began kindly, "I don't
know and you don't know, but I'd like to have you tell me what
you think about it."

"I d' know, as you say, mum, but I think--" here she lowered her
voice--" I think it has something to do with Miss Ainslie."

"Who is Miss Ainslie?"

"She's a peculiar woman, Miss Ainslie is," the girl explained,