"The beast!" she cried, referring to the pious occupant of the back
bedroom; "the mean, wicked, miserable old miser! To think of his being
a relative of yours, Aunt Thankful, and treating you so! And accepting
your hospitality at the very time when he is considering taking your
home away from you!"
Thankful smiled ruefully. "As to that, Emily," she said, "I ain't
greatly surprised. Judgin' by what I've seen of Sol Cobb, I should say
'twas a part of his gospel to accept anything he can get for nothin'.
But how he can have the face to pray while he's doin' it I don't see.
What kind of a God does he think he's prayin' to? I should think he'd
be scared to get down on his knees for fear he'd never be let up
again. Well, if there IS a ghost in that room I should say this was its
chance."
"A ghost? What are you talking about, Auntie?"
"Eh? Oh, nothin', nothin'. Did I say 'ghost'? I didn't realize what I
said, I guess."
"Then why did you say it?"
"Oh, I don't know. . . . There, there, don't let's get any more foolish
than we can help. Let's go to bed. We'll have to turn out awful early
in the mornin' to get Georgie's stockin' hung up and his presents ready.
Now trot off to bed, Emily."
"Aunt Thankful, you're hiding something from me. I know you are."
"Now, Emily, you know I wouldn't--"
"Yes, you would. At least, you have. All this time you have been
deceiving me about that mortgage. And now I think there is something
else. What did you mean by a ghost in that room?"
"I didn't mean anything.
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