As she wandered through the tiny, spotless rooms on the second floor of

Miss Hathaway's house, Ruth had a sense of security and peace which

she had never known before. There were two front rooms, of equal size,

looking to the west, and she chose the one on the left, because of its

two south windows. There was but one other room, aside from the small

one at the end of the hall, which, as she supposed, was Hepsey's.

One of the closets was empty, but on a shelf in the other was a

great pile of bedding. She dragged a chair inside, burrowed under the

blankets, and found a small wooden box, the contents clinking softly as

she drew it toward her.

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Holding it under her arm, she ascended the narrow, spiral stairs which

led to the attic. At one end, under the eaves, stood an old mahogany

dresser. The casters were gone and she moved it with difficulty, but the

slanting sunbeams of late afternoon revealed the key, which hung, as her

aunt had written, on a nail driven into the back of it.

She knew, without trying, that it would fit the box, but idly turned the

lock. As she opened it, a bit of paper fluttered out, and, picking it

up, she read in her aunt's cramped, But distinct hand: "Hepsey gets a

dollar and a half every week. Don't you pay her no more."

As the house was set some distance back, the east window in the attic

was the only one which commanded a view of the sea. A small table, with

its legs sawed off, came exactly to the sill, and here stood a lamp,

which was a lamp simply, without adornment, and held about a pint of

oil.

She read the letter again and, having mastered its contents, tore it

into small pieces, with that urban caution which does not come amiss in

the rural districts. She understood that every night of her stay she

was to light this lamp with her own hands, but why? The varnish on

the table, which had once been glaring, was scratched with innumerable

rings, where the rough glass had left its mark. Ruth wondered if she

were face to face with a mystery.

The seaward side of the hill was a rocky cliff, and between the

vegetable garden at the back of the house and the edge of the precipice

were a few stumps, well-nigh covered with moss. From her vantage point,

she could see the woods which began at the base of the hill, on the

north side, and seemed to end at the sea. On the south, there were a few

trees near the cliff, but others near them had been cut down.




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