"This must be the house, I think," said one. "He said it was exactly opposite the Seceder church. That's the church, I believe. I was here once before."
"There doesn't seem to be a light in the house," said the other, looking up to the windows over the street. "Are you sure? Brother Spafford said he was coming directly home to let his wife know of our arrival."
"A little strange there's no light yet, for it is quite dark now, but I'm sure this must be the house. Maybe they are all in the kitchen and not expecting us quite so soon. Let's try anyhow," said the other, setting down his carpet-bag on the stoop and lifting the big brass knocker.
Miranda stood still debating but a moment. The situation was made plain to her in an instant. Not for nothing had she stood at Grandma Heath's elbow for years watching the movements of her neighbors and interpreting exactly what they meant. Miranda's wits were sharpened for situations of all kinds. Miranda was ready and loyal to those she adored. Without further ado she hastened to a sheltered spot she knew and climbed the picket fence which separated the Heath garden from the Spafford side yard. Before the brass knocker had sounded through the empty house the second time Miranda had crossed the side porch, thrown her sunbonnet upon a chair in the dark kitchen, and was hastening with noisy, encouraging steps to the front door.
She flung it wide open, saying in a breezy voice, "Just wait till I get a light, won't you, the wind blew the candle out."
There wasn't a particle of wind about that soft September night, but that made little difference to Miranda. She was part of a play and she was acting her best. If her impromptu part was a little irregular, it was at least well meant, boldly and bravely presented.
Miranda found a candle on the shelf and, stooping to the smouldering fire upon the hearth, blew and coaxed it into flame enough to light it.
"This is Mr. Spafford's home, is it not?" questioned the old gentleman whom Miranda had heard speak first on the sidewalk.
"Oh, yes, indeed," said the girl glibly. "Jest come in and set down. Here, let me take your hats. Jest put your bags right there on the floor."
"You are-- Are you--Mrs. Spafford?" hesitated the courtly old gentleman.
"Oh, landy sakes, no, I ain't her," laughed Miranda well pleased. "Mis' Spafford had jest stepped out a bit when her husband come home, an' he's gone after her. You see she didn't expect her husband home till late to-night. But you set down. They'll be home real soon now. They'd oughter ben here before this. I 'spose she'd gone on further'n she thought she'd go when she stepped out."