"You don't say so!" said Polly. "How long since?"
"About two years ago. The poor old lady sailed off very easy, with a jug of hot water close to her nose."
That frightened us dreadfully. We knew aunt Persis steamed Zed, for he said so; and what if she should steam us all out of the world with jugs of hot water close to our noses? And she was always trying to make Fel swallow something bad, and always talking about her white face. "Tell your mother to let me have you for a month," said she, "and I'll put roses into your cheeks, my dear."
Fel was so afraid that she trembled when we went into the house, expecting auntie would spring out upon her, and set her over the fire to steam. But she was such a patient, still little thing that she never complained, even to her own mother, and I was too rattle-brained to think much about it, though if I myself had expected to be cooked, the whole town would have heard of it.
Zed grew paler and paler. I asked Miss Rubie, privately, "what made his mother boil him?" And she smiled, though not as if she was happy, and said,—
"She doesn't boil him when I can help it, dear."
About this time I heard my mother say to my father she wished uncle John was at home, for auntie acted so odd, and her eyes looked so strange.
"Yes, mamma," cried I, rushing in from the nursery, "she boils her little boy, and she wants to boil Fel. I should think you'd tell Fel's mother, for Fel dassent tell, she's so scared."
I think mother went right to Madam Allen with what I said, for the next night, when I was at Squire Allen's, and Fel was sitting in her mamma's lap, Madam Allen said,—
"Why didn't my little girl let me know she was afraid of Mrs. Adams? When darling feels unhappy about anything she must always tell mamma."