"P. S. You have to keep a lamp burning every night in the east
window of the attic. Be careful that nothing catches afire."

The maid was waiting, in fear and trembling, for she did not know
what directions her eccentric mistress might have left.

"Everything is all right, Hepsey," said Miss Thorne, pleasantly,
"and I think you and I will get along nicely. Did Miss Hathaway
tell you what room I was to have?"

"No'm. She told me you was to make yourself at home. She said you
could sleep where you pleased."

"Very well, I will go up and see for myself. I would like my tea
at six o'clock." She still held the letter in her hand, greatly
to the chagrin of Hepsey, who was interested in everything and
had counted upon a peep at it. It was not Miss Hathaway's custom
to guard her letters and she was both surprised and disappointed.

As Ruth climbed the narrow stairway, the quiet, old-fashioned
house brought balm to her tired soul. It was exquisitely clean,
redolent of sweet herbs, and in its atmosphere was a subtle,
Puritan restraint.

Have not our houses, mute as they are, their own way of conveying
an impression? One may go into a house which has been empty for a
long time, and yet feel, instinctively, what sort of people were
last sheltered there. The silent walls breathe a message to each
visitor, and as the footfalls echo in the bare cheerless rooms,