stan' there lookin' at me that way, Charlotte."
"Why, Aunt Lucinda!"
Lucinda Moss put her slender red fingers over her face. "I—didn't think it was—anything out of the—way," she sniffed, weakly.
Charlotte stood before her as relentless and handsome as an accusing angel. Her full, strong young figure seemed to tower over her aunt; her firm, rosy face and clear blue eyes seemed to spy out her inmost weaknesses like sunlight. "I must say I am surprised," said Charlotte. Her voice was loud and even and sweet. Charlotte, no matter how indignant she might be, never altered her voice.
"I didn't think it was anything so much out of the way, Charlotte."
"Well, I must say, Aunt Lucinda, I never thought, from all I've known of you, that you'd do such a thing as to sit down and play cards."
Lucinda's eyes, all pink and watery, rested appealingly on Charlotte, then on the table before her. Charlotte had on light cambric gown that displayed a rigor of starch and cleanliness. She had worn her white apron in school all day, but it still flared as stiffly as when she had put it on in the morning. Her brown hair was brushed until it shone; there was not a stray lock anywhere. All this perfect order and nicety made her seem more pitiless to her aunt. Lucinda shrank weakly down in her chair. She was lean and delicate, in flimsy old black muslin and a shiny old black silk apron. She wore a tumbled muslin kerchief around her neck, and had lax, faded curls behind her ears. She looked from Charlotte to the table. There was a printed red cloth on it, and a row of books piled up against the wall under the gilt-framed glass. There was an old-fashioned work-box with a gilt ball on each corner, and a little china vase with some violets in it. But Lucinda eyed ruefully the objects directly before her on the corner of the table. There lay a pack of little old-fashioned cards and a large green-covered Bible. The cards were scattered about, and some of them were tucked under the Bible.
"And for you to try to hide the cards under the Bible!" continued Charlotte. "I shouldn't have thought you could have done that, Aunt Lucinda."
"It was layin' right there. I'd jest been readin' some in it." Lucinda's voice took on a sharper tone. There is a wall of limitation for all human patience, and she was being crowded against hers. She stood against it, and displayed what small defensive powers she had, although her defence was principally appeal and excuse. "I didn't have anything to do," she proceeded—"not anything. I'd been knittin' till I got cramps, an' I read a chapter, an' then I thought I'd jest get out the cards. It's dreadful dull sometimes, Charlotte."
"I should think you could find some amusement in your own mind," replied Charlotte, with no abatement of severity.
Lucinda eyed her in a bewildered way, as if called upon to consider an argument based upon some unknown equation.
"I know perfectly well," continued Charlotte, "that it isn't my place to dictate to you, for you are my aunt, and a good deal older than I am. But I must say it surprised me a good deal to come in and find you playing cards, for I wasn't brought up to see them in the house."
Lucinda sat bolt-upright; there were hot red spots on her cheeks; one near enough could have seen pulses beating here and there through the delicate skin on her neck and forehead. "I wa'n't playin' cards," said she.
"Why, what were you doing, then? I don't know what you mean, Aunt Lucinda."
"Well, I was—I s'pose you'll think I'm dreadful silly, Charlotte, but I ain't had much to 'muse me, an' I've kinder got in the way of it."
"For pity's sake, Aunt Lucinda, what are you coming at?" Charlotte stared at her, and wrinkled her fair high forehead in a way she had when perplexed.
"I didn't mean to do anything out of the way, but I s'pose I you'll think it was dreadful silly, Charlotte. I was jest tellin' my fortune."
"What?"
The tears stood in the old woman's eyes. She shook visibly. In her simple life her little foolishnesses had come to take the place of sins, and she was shamefaced over them as such. "I was jest—tellin' my fortune."
"I don't believe I know what you mean, Aunt Lucinda." I Charlotte's blue eyes were raised, her round rosy face was all furrowed with those lines of perplexity.
"Why, don't you know, Charlotte? You can tell your fortune with cards. There's a way of doin' it. I learnt it when I was a girl. Didn't you know it?" asked Lucinda, with tremulous eagerness.
"I've heard of it."