Miss Flint’s anger broke forth when she found her in this state upon her return.
“How dare you act so, you spiteful creature?” she cried, shaking her violently.
“I saw something come from under the lounge,” gasped the child convulsively.
“It is a falsehood, a wicked falsehood!” and going to the lounge she raised the ruffle. “You see there is nothing under there! You are only acting this way to keep me from going out again.”
“I did see something!” screamed Hilda, stamping her foot in her excitement; “they were two black fingers.”
“Two black fingers!” echoed Miss Flint, derisively; “where are they now? They must have been alive if they moved.”
“They did move; I saw them come out and go back!”
“You little vixen!” cried Jerusha, grasping her; “if you don’t hush I will—”
A voice at the door silenced her and caused Hilda to cower in her chair.
“I was coming from Dorton,” said Perry, “and heard somebody crying, so stopped to see what was up.”