"No, no, Deacon Little," Hetty hastened to say, "I never meant to
reproach you. Sally always says you've been good to her. I 'm very sorry
that I spoke so about Mrs. Little; not that I can take a word of it
back, though," added Hetty, her anger still rising hotly at mention of
the name; "but I'll never say a word to you about it again. It isn't
fair."

Deacon Little repeated this conversation to his wife, and told Hetty
that he had done so. It was therefore with great surprise that Hetty
found herself on this morning face to face in her own home with Mrs.
Little.

"What in the world can have brought her here?" thought Hetty, as she
walked slowly towards the sitting-room, "no good I'll be bound;" and it
was with a look almost of defiance that she stood before her, waiting
for her to speak. Mrs. Little with all her immovability of prejudice was
a timid woman, and moreover was especially afraid of Hetty Gunn. Hetty's
independent, downright, out-spoken ways were alarming to her nervous,
conservative, narrow-minded soul.

"I expect you're surprised to see me here, Hetty," she began.

"Very much," interrupted Hetty curtly, in a hard tone. A long silence
ensued, which Hetty made no movement to break, but stood with her arms
folded, looking Mrs. Little in the eye.

"I came--to--tell--to let you know--Mr. Little he wanted me to come and
tell you--he didn't like to--" she stammered.

Hetty's quick instinct took alarm.