“You're a dear, anyway,” said Henrietta, “and I'm going right over and tell Lem. You need n't hurry, Gay. Stay and keep the judge corrupted.”
Henrietta hastened to the kitchen, where Miss Susan was sure to be found at this time of day.
“Lem is not guilty,” she cried. “He's not even to be tried. Nor your brother either.”
But Miss Susan did not show the delight Henrietta had hoped to see. She wiped her hands on the roller towel and turned to Henrietta a somber face.
“I want to talk to you, Miss Bates,” she said. “I've been waitin' all day to. I don't, mind you, think no evil, but I guess you'll have to find a boardin'-place elsewhere. A boarding-house-keeper that tries to run a nice home, like I do, has to be careful, even if it does mean she has to be harsh sometimes.”
“But what have I done?” asked Henrietta, aghast.
“Nothing you'd blame yourself for, I dare say,” said Miss Susan, “nor do I think evil, but there's things that can't be allowed to happen in a boarding-house if talk ain't to be started. Last night when I had to come downstairs late to tend to my set bread, Mr. Todder was in your room. I heard you two talkin'. Such things can't happen in my house. You'll have to go, and he'll have to go.”
Henrietta looked at Susan's mouth, which was firm with resolution. For a moment her heart sank, but she drew a deep breath.
“I knew it! I knew this was sure to happen some day,” she said. “I ought to have told you long ago, Miss Susan, but I did not dare. I was afraid. But now I must tell you—Freeman Todder is my husband.”
“For mercy's sake!” cried Miss Susan, surprised out of her attitude of unfriendliness. “Then what was all this howdy-do about your being engaged to that William Vane man?” Henrietta put her arm coaxingly around Miss Susan's waist.