Thankful begged her to
stay until Kenelm came, when he might harness the horse and drive her
to her destination, but she would not wait. She would not even remain to
pack her trunks.
"I'll come back and pack 'em," she said. "Or perhaps you and Imogene
will pack 'em for me. Oh, Mrs. Barnes, you've been so kind. I hate to
leave you this way, I do, honest."
"But WHY are you leavin'?" asked Thankful once more. For the first time
Miss Timpson seemed to hesitate. She looked about, as if to make sure
that the two were alone; then she leaned forward and whispered in her
companion's ear.
"Mrs. Barnes," she whispered, "I--I didn't mean to tell you. I didn't
mean to tell anybody. 'Twas too personal, too sacred a thing to tell.
But I don't know's I shan't tell you after all; seem's as if I must tell
somebody. Mrs. Barnes, I shan't live much longer. I've had a warning."
Thankful stared at her.
"Rebecca Timpson!" she exclaimed. "Have you gone crazy? What are you
talkin' about? A warnin'!"
"Yes, a warning. I was warned last night. You--you knew I was a twin,
didn't you?"
"A which?"
"A twin. Probably you didn't know it, but I used to have a twin sister,
Medora, that died when she was only nineteen. She and I looked alike,
and were alike, in most everything. We thought the world of each other,
used to be together daytimes and sleep together nights. And she used
to--er--well, she was different from me in one way--she couldn't help
it, poor thing--she used to snore something dreadful.
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