brought the bulb to me, a little brown thing like an onion. I doubted it would grow here, but it just seemed determined to keep on trying and look what has happened."
Kit glanced up suspiciously. Was Hannah trying to preach to her? But the old woman merely poked gently at the earth around the alien plant. "I hope my friend will come while it is still blooming," she said. "He will be so pleased."
"I must go now," Kit said, getting to her feet. Then something prompted her to add honestly, "You've given me an answer, haven't you? I think I know what you mean."
The woman shook her head. "The answer is in thy heart," she said softly. "Thee can always hear it if thee listens for it."
Back along South Road Kit walked with a lightness and freedom she had never known since the day she sailed into Saybrook Harbor. Hannah Tupper was far from being a witch, but certainly she had worked a magic charm. In one short hour she had conjured away the rebellion that had been seething in the girl's mind for weeks. Only one thing must be done before Kit could truly be at peace, and without speaking a word Hannah had given her the strength to do it. Straight up Broad Street she walked, up the path to a square frame house, and knocked boldly on the door of Mr. Eleazer Kimberley.
CHAPTER 10
"Y OU DIDN'T! " Mercy gasped. "Mr. Kimberley himself! How did you ever dare, Kit?"
"I don't know," admitted Kit. Now that it was over her knees were shaking. "But he was very fair. He listened to me, and he finally agreed I could have one more chance. I won't let you down again, Mercy, I promise."
"I never thought you had let me down," Mercy said loyally. "It's just that you do have a way of surprising people. You certainly must have surprised Mr. Kimberley. He isn't known for changing his mind."
"I surprised myself," Kit laughed. "I really can't take any credit for it, Mercy. I think I was bewitched."
"Bewitched?"
"I met the witch who lives down in the meadow. It was she who gave me the courage."
Mercy and her mother exchanged startled glances.
"You mean you talked with her?" An anxious frown wrinkled Mercy's forehead.
"I went into her house and ate her food. But I was joking about being bewitched. She's the gentlest little person you ever saw. You'd love her, Mercy."
"Kit." Aunt Rachel set down her heavy flatiron and regarded her niece seriously. "I think you had better not say anything to the others about meeting this woman."
"Why, Aunt Rachel, you of all people! You can't believe she's a witch?"
"No, of course not. That is just malicious gossip. But no one in Wethersfield has anything to do with Hannah Tupper."
"Why on earth not?"
"She is a Quaker."
"Why is that so dreadful?"
Rachel hesitated. "I can't tell you exactly. The Quakers are queer stubborn people. They don't believe in the Sacraments."
"What difference does that make? She is as kind and good as—as you are. Aunt Rachel. I could swear to it."
Rachel looked genuinely distressed. "How can you be sure? Quakers cause trouble wherever they go. They speak out against our faith. Of course, we don't torment them here in Connecticut. In Boston I've heard they even hanged some Quakers. This Hannah Tupper and her husband were branded and driven out of Massachusetts. They were thankful enough just to be let alone here in Wethersfield."
"Has she ever done any harm?"
"No—perhaps not, though there's been talk. Kit, I know your uncle would be very angry about this. Promise me you won't go there again."
Kit looked down at the floor. All her fine resolves about trying to understand and to be patient, and already she could feel the defiance rising again.
"You won't, will you, Kit?"
"I can't promise that, Aunt Rachel," said Kit unhappily. "I'm sorry, but I just can't. Hannah was good to me, and she's very lonely."
"I know you mean to be kind," insisted Rachel. "But you are very young, child. You don't understand how sometimes evil can seem innocent and harmless. 'Tis dangerous for you to
Kit glanced up suspiciously. Was Hannah trying to preach to her? But the old woman merely poked gently at the earth around the alien plant. "I hope my friend will come while it is still blooming," she said. "He will be so pleased."
"I must go now," Kit said, getting to her feet. Then something prompted her to add honestly, "You've given me an answer, haven't you? I think I know what you mean."
The woman shook her head. "The answer is in thy heart," she said softly. "Thee can always hear it if thee listens for it."
Back along South Road Kit walked with a lightness and freedom she had never known since the day she sailed into Saybrook Harbor. Hannah Tupper was far from being a witch, but certainly she had worked a magic charm. In one short hour she had conjured away the rebellion that had been seething in the girl's mind for weeks. Only one thing must be done before Kit could truly be at peace, and without speaking a word Hannah had given her the strength to do it. Straight up Broad Street she walked, up the path to a square frame house, and knocked boldly on the door of Mr. Eleazer Kimberley.
CHAPTER 10
"Y OU DIDN'T! " Mercy gasped. "Mr. Kimberley himself! How did you ever dare, Kit?"
"I don't know," admitted Kit. Now that it was over her knees were shaking. "But he was very fair. He listened to me, and he finally agreed I could have one more chance. I won't let you down again, Mercy, I promise."
"I never thought you had let me down," Mercy said loyally. "It's just that you do have a way of surprising people. You certainly must have surprised Mr. Kimberley. He isn't known for changing his mind."
"I surprised myself," Kit laughed. "I really can't take any credit for it, Mercy. I think I was bewitched."
"Bewitched?"
"I met the witch who lives down in the meadow. It was she who gave me the courage."
Mercy and her mother exchanged startled glances.
"You mean you talked with her?" An anxious frown wrinkled Mercy's forehead.
"I went into her house and ate her food. But I was joking about being bewitched. She's the gentlest little person you ever saw. You'd love her, Mercy."
"Kit." Aunt Rachel set down her heavy flatiron and regarded her niece seriously. "I think you had better not say anything to the others about meeting this woman."
"Why, Aunt Rachel, you of all people! You can't believe she's a witch?"
"No, of course not. That is just malicious gossip. But no one in Wethersfield has anything to do with Hannah Tupper."
"Why on earth not?"
"She is a Quaker."
"Why is that so dreadful?"
Rachel hesitated. "I can't tell you exactly. The Quakers are queer stubborn people. They don't believe in the Sacraments."
"What difference does that make? She is as kind and good as—as you are. Aunt Rachel. I could swear to it."
Rachel looked genuinely distressed. "How can you be sure? Quakers cause trouble wherever they go. They speak out against our faith. Of course, we don't torment them here in Connecticut. In Boston I've heard they even hanged some Quakers. This Hannah Tupper and her husband were branded and driven out of Massachusetts. They were thankful enough just to be let alone here in Wethersfield."
"Has she ever done any harm?"
"No—perhaps not, though there's been talk. Kit, I know your uncle would be very angry about this. Promise me you won't go there again."
Kit looked down at the floor. All her fine resolves about trying to understand and to be patient, and already she could feel the defiance rising again.
"You won't, will you, Kit?"
"I can't promise that, Aunt Rachel," said Kit unhappily. "I'm sorry, but I just can't. Hannah was good to me, and she's very lonely."
"I know you mean to be kind," insisted Rachel. "But you are very young, child. You don't understand how sometimes evil can seem innocent and harmless. 'Tis dangerous for you to
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