This is the way it happened:
Among the best-known village residents was Miss Melinda
Sprague, a maiden lady, who took a profound interest in the
affairs of her neighbors. She seldom went beyond the limits of
Groveton, which was her world. She had learned the business
of dressmaking, and often did work at home for her customers.
She was of a curious and prying disposition, and nothing
delighted her more than to acquire the knowledge of a secret.
One day--a few days after Florence Grant's party--Mrs.
Larkin was in her own chamber. She had the trunk open, having
occasion to take something from it, when, with a light step, Miss
Sprague entered the room. The widow, who was on her knees
before the trunk, turning, recognized the intruder, not without
displeasure.
"I hope you'll excuse my coming in so unceremoniously, Mrs.
Larkin," said Melinda, effusively. "I knocked, but you didn't
hear it, being upstairs, and I took the liberty, being as we were
so well acquainted, to come upstairs in search of you."
"Yes, certainly," answered Mrs. Larkin, but her tone was
constrained.
She quickly shut the lid of the trunk.
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