Mrs. De Witt pointed out the house. "See, there she is now at the gate, talking to Mrs. Brown and Mrs. Clarke and Martha Wilbur. She has got some new story in hand, I'll be bound, by the way she nods her head."
Mrs. Trescott had laid a light scarf over her head to come through the garden. "Come with me, Mrs. De Witt," said she, decidedly.
The two crossed the road, and stood in the midst of the gossiping group almost before they were seen.
"Mrs. Van Horn, I believe?" said Mrs. Trescott, addressing the woman,—who looked as if she did not know whether to be pleased or frightened, as she bowed her head.
"I understand," said Mrs. Trescott, in clear, quiet tones,—"I understand that you have spread a report about this neighbourhood, to the effect that Mrs. Letitia Caswell, who formerly lived with me, stole certain articles, marked with my daughter's name, now in her possession."
"I'm sure I don't remember," stammered Mrs. Van Horn. "I only said it was odd how she came by them,—or something like that."
"Why, Mrs. Van Horn, how can you say so?" exclaimed Martha Wilbur, a pert girl of fifteen, who was rejoicing in the prospect of a scene and very ready to help it on. "I am sure you said at our house that Mrs. Trescott told you herself how Mrs. Caswell stole those things, and about all the other trouble she had made in the family. It was the same night when you told us how you had just been out riding with Mrs. Trescott in her new carriage, and how she asked you to go to Washington with her."
"Martha is right," said Mrs. Clarke. "I heard Mrs. Van Horn say all these things myself."
"I have only to say," said Mrs. Trescott, turning to the bystanders, "that the story is perfectly false from beginning to end. Letty lived with me eight years, and was to me more like a younger sister than a servant. I would have trusted her with any amount of money. She is beyond all question one of the most truthful, faithful persons I ever had any thing to do with. The articles in question were given her by me, as a kind of legacy from my daughter Maria; and the damask towels which excited so much attention were a present from my aunt, Mrs. Burchell. As to this person," she added (turning to Mrs. Van Horn), "I do not know her, nor, may I add, have I any desire to make her acquaintance." And, with a dignified bow, Mrs. Trescott turned away, and walked back to Number Ten, followed by Mrs. De Witt.
"Well, if ever!" exclaimed Martha Wilbur.