Once, when
Mrs. Freeman was in her garden, she had looked over the fence, and
praised the beauty of her flowers, and when a bunch was presented to
her, had received them with that almost childish delight which aged
people often manifest.
Weeks passed on, and the remarks of Mrs. Morris were almost
forgotten, when Mrs. Freeman was aroused one night by loud cries,
apparently proceeding from the adjoining house; and on listening
intently could plainly distinguish the sound of heavy blows, and
also the voice of the old lady in question, as if in earnest
expostulation and entreaty.
Mrs. Freeman aroused her husband, and together they listened in
anxiety and alarm. For nearly an hour the sounds continued, but at
length all was again quiet. It was long, however, before they could
compose themselves to rest. It was certainly strange and
unaccountable, and there was something so inhuman in the thought of
abusing an aged woman that their hearts revolted at the idea.
Still Mrs. Freeman maintained, as was her wont, that there must be
two sides to the story; and after vainly endeavouring to imagine
what the other side could be, she fell asleep, and was undisturbed
until morning.
All seemed quiet the next day, and Mrs. Freeman had somewhat
recovered from the alarm of the previous night, when she was again
visited by her friend, Mrs.
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