MRS. VAN HORN did not call upon Letty again; and, when she went to return the visit she had received, the lady was not "at home." But she continued upon the most intimate terms with Agnes. Letty was more than ever convinced that she was not a safe person; but she was grieved at the change in Agnes's feelings, and made several attempts to regain some influence over her. Letty fancied, too, that several of her neighbours looked coolly upon her and once, as she passed a knot of them, there was a laugh and a significant whisper that she could not overlook. She could not help suspecting that Mrs. Van Horn's influence lay at the bottom of the matter; nor was she mistaken.
Letty's baby was born in May. Her confinement was attended with much suffering, and she was considered in some danger for several hours. Mrs. Trescott came down early in the morning, and stayed the whole day, greatly to the comfort of Letty, who regarded her as an infallible oracle in all cases of sickness. In the afternoon, when Letty was comparatively comfortable and had fallen asleep, Mrs. De Witt, who had been with her from the beginning, beckoned Mrs. Trescott out of the room.
"I wish you would come over to my house," said she, rather mysteriously. "I have something to say to you, and I don't want any of 'em to hear a word,—particularly Mrs. Caswell. It's been on my mind a good many days," she continued, opening the door for her visitor, "and I wanted some one's advice that knows more than I do; for I really don't think such things ought to be allowed to go on,—only one don't know how to stop 'em, always."
"Well," said Mrs. Trescott, surprised, and somewhat amused, "I will advise you to the best of my ability. What's the matter?"
"It's about Mrs. Caswell herself," said Mrs. De Witt, sitting down, and, in her extraordinary earnestness, coming to the point at once, without any of her customary circumlocution. "You see, she has a good many handkerchiefs and things marked with your daughter's name, and some very fine towels and table-cloths marked with another name,—Anastasia something."
"Anastasia Burchell? Yes. Those things were given her for wedding-presents, by my aunt and myself. My daughter was very much attached to Letty, and at the time of her death I laid by a number of articles of her wardrobe, such as I thought would be useful to Letty, meaning to give them to her whenever she should leave me."
"Exactly," said Mrs. De Witt. "I understand. Well, Mrs. Van Horn was in there one day when Letty was pulling out all her drawers and putting her things in order, and she got hold of some of these very articles. So, what does she do but go all around the neighbourhood, telling every one that Mrs. Caswell stole those things from you, and that you told her yourself that you knew Letty stole, but, as she was a member of the church and going away so soon, you thought you would take no notice!"
"That I told her!" exclaimed Mrs. Trescott, in profound amazement. "Why, Mrs. De Witt, I never spoke to the woman more than once in my life. I hardly know her by sight."
"Do tell!" said Mrs. De Witt. "Why, she is always bragging how intimate she is at your house,—and so on," remembering in time that all Mrs. Van Horn's stories would not bear repetition. "Anyhow, she has told this story about Mrs. Caswell all over the neighbourhood, and a good many people believe it."
"Where does this person live?" asked Mrs. Trescott, with a flash in her eyes which, to those who knew her, betokened mischief. "I should like to see her."