Aunt Dimity and the Village Witch Read Online Free

bay window and saw Millicent Scroggins standing on the doorstep. The skinny spinster lived next door to Crabtree Cottage, but I’d last seen her in Sally Pyne’s tearoom, conversing volubly with the rest of the Handmaidens.
    “It’s Millicent,” I whispered over my shoulder.
    “What’s she doing here?” whispered Grant, looking annoyed.
    “Go and find out,” Charles whispered to him. “And for heaven’s sake, don’t tell her about Mae Bowen.”
    Grant shushed him and went to answer the door. Charles and I moved closer to the hallway, the better to eavesdrop.
    After greeting Grant and praising “the dear little puppies,” Millicent got down to business.
    “I do hope you’ll forgive the intrusion,” she said in an overly solicitous tone of voice.“I wanted to make sure that you and Lori and Charles were all right.”
    “She’s snooping,” Charles murmured, his eyes narrowing.
    “Naturally,” I murmured back.
    “I couldn’t help but notice your rather abrupt exit from the tearoom,” Millicent continued. “I was afraid that one of you might have been taken ill.”
    “No, no,” Grant assured her airily. “We’re quite well, thank you.”
    “I am pleased,” said Millicent, but she wasn’t about to let Grant off the hook so easily. “You gave us quite a scare, you know, running away as you did. Selena said you looked as though you’d seen a ghost.” Millicent’s tinkling laugh set the dogs off again, but she simply talked over them. “Selena has quite a vivid imagination.”
    “You can tell Selena that we didn’t see a ghost,” said Grant. “We saw something far more disturbing.”
    “Did you?” Millicent prompted eagerly.
    “Oh, yes,” Grant said gravely. “We saw ourselves sitting there, staring at Mrs. Thistle as if she were a monkey in a zoo. And suddenly, we felt ashamed.”
    Charles emitted a snort of suppressed laughter and I smiled wryly. Grant had apparently decided to have a little fun with his inquisitive neighbor.
    “Ashamed?” Millicent echoed, sounding bewildered. “Of what?”
    “Of ourselves,” Grant answered solemnly. “What is the world coming to, we asked ourselves, when a respectable woman can’t move into a respectable house without being gawped at by a crowd of strangers? We were sickened, I tell you, sickened by our own despicable behavior, so we came away, before we could lose any more of our self-respect.”
    “I see .” Millicent hesitated, then said, “I hope you don’t think I was there to…to gawp at Mrs. Thistle.”
    “The possibility never occurred to me,” Grant told her.
    “Because I can assure you that I had no such intention,” Millicent stated militantly. “I went there, as I often do, to have a cup of tea and to visit with my friends. I can’t speak to their intentions, of course. They may have gone to the tearoom to gawp, but I most certainly did not.”
    “Of course not,” said Grant.
    “Dear me,” Millicent said fretfully. “I seem to have left my gloves behind. If you’ll excuse me, Grant, I’ll pop back to the tearoom to fetch them. Please give my best to Charles and Lori, won’t you?”
    “I will,” said Grant.
    I heard the sound of footsteps scurrying down the front walk, then the click of the latch as Grant closed the front door. Charles and I gave him a brief round of applause when he stepped into the office.
    “An inspired performance,” I said.
    “Grant has a gift for improvisation,” Charles said proudly.
    “So does Millicent,” I said. “If she came here to inquire after our health, I’ll eat my sneakers. She was fishing for scraps of gossip to bring back to her cronies.”
    “And you sent her away with a flea in her ear,” said Charles, beaming at his partner. “Shall we celebrate your victory with a tot of brandy?”
    Grant nodded, but I declined. I wasn’t a teetotaler, but the thought of sipping brandy in the middle of the day made me feel slightly queasy. While Charles and Goya bustled off to