"I
am sure I know nothing about it," she said with a certain tempered
asperity. "Do you know anything about it, Flora?"
"Oh, no, I don't know anything about it, Aunt Sophia," answered the
young girl, fluttering.
Then Sophia turned to Miss Stark. "I'll go upstairs with you, Miss
Stark," said she, "and see what the trouble is. There must be some
mistake." She spoke stiffly with constrained civility.
"Very well," said Miss Stark with dignity. Then she and Miss
Sophia went upstairs. Flora stood staring after them.
Sophia and Louisa Stark went up to the southwest chamber. The
closet door was shut. Sophia threw it open, then she looked at
Miss Stark. On the pegs hung the schoolteacher's own garments in
ordinary array.
"I can't see that there is anything wrong," remarked Sophia grimly.
Miss Stark strove to speak but she could not. She sank down on the
nearest chair. She did not even attempt to defend herself. She
saw her own clothes in the closet. She knew there had been no time
for any human being to remove those which she thought she had seen
and put hers in their places. She knew it was impossible.
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