This is the way it happened:

 

Among the best-known village residents was Miss Melinda Sprague, a maiden¹ 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 prying² disposition³, 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 chamber⁴. 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, effusively⁵. "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 constrained⁶.

 

She quickly shut the lid of the trunk. There was only one thing among its contents which she was anxious to hide, but that Miss Melinda's sharp eyes had already discovered. Unfortunately, the tin box was at one side, in plain sight.

 

"What on earth does Mrs. Larkin do with a tin box?" she asked herself, with eager curiosity. "Can she have property that people don't know of? I always thought she was left poor."

 

Melinda asked no questions. The sudden closing of the trunk showed her that the widow would not be inclined to answer any questions.

 

"I won't let her think I saw anything," she said to herself. "Perhaps she'll get anxious and refer to it."

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