“I wonder what you say in those prayers of yours, Solomon,” she observed. “I should imagine the Lord might find 'em interestin'.”
“I'm glad I said it, Emily,” she told her cousin, who was awaiting her in her bedroom. “I presume likely it'll do more harm than good, but it did ME good while I was sayin' it. The mean, stingy old hypocrite! Now let's go downstairs and fill Georgie's stockin'.”
But that ceremony, it appeared, must be deferred. Georgie was still wide-awake. He called to Emily to ask if the man who had come was Santa Claus.
“The little rascal,” chuckled Thankful. “Well,” with a sigh, “he'll never make a worse guess if he lives to be as old as Methuselah's grandmarm. Emily, you sneak down and fetch the stockin' and the presents up here to my room. We'll do the fillin' here and hang up the stockin' in the mornin' afore he gets up.”
While they were filling the stocking and tying the packages containing gifts too bulky to be put in it Miss Howes cross-questioned her cousin. Emily had been most unfavorably impressed with Mr. Cobb during this, her first, meeting with him, and her suspicions concerning Thankful's financial affairs, already aroused by the lady's reticence, were now active. She questioned and, after a time, Thankful told her, first a little and then all the truth.
“I didn't mean to tell you, Emily,” she said, tearfully. “I didn't mean to tell a soul, but I—I just couldn't keep it to myself any longer. If he doesn't renew that mortgage—and goodness knows what he'll do after he talks with Mr. Holliday Kendrick—I—I don't see how I can help losin' everything. It's either that or sell out, and I don't want to sell—Oh, I don't! I know I can make a go of this place of mine if I have another year of it. I KNOW I can.”
Emily was very much excited and fiercely indignant.
“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?”