However the case may be, the brother and sister lived together in much harmony; the fraternal tie being strengthened by bonds of principal and interest. Still they were far from being agreeable neighbors to the family at the larger house, whose quiet they succeeded in disturbing almost daily. Madam kept herself as much aloof from them as she could, consistently with her nature, which was kindly disposed to every creature that breathed, and led her to do them all the good in her power. Of this they availed themselves to their no small profit. They levied contributions, under the name of loans, upon her larder, her flour-barrel, and her meat-tub; seldom replenishing their own scanty stock of provisions, until a supply from her store-room had served them a week. The kitchen utensils were in constant requisition. The servants sometimes took upon them to resist these exactions, when such a clamor would be raised, as to throw poor madam into hysterics; in terror of which and in mercy to his own ears, her good spouse was fain to give orders that Jemmy and Nanny should have whatever they asked for, without contention or debate. This was to the unbounded indignation of Aunt Vi’let; a sable-complexioned dame, who ruled in the kitchen with despotic sway, and held old Scipio, her niece Flora, and Peter the footboy, in wholesome subjection; often extending her dominion to the parlor, where she found no difficulty in overawing madam; and even Mr. Fayerweather, though he sometimes proved refractory, as in the above instance, yet he generally found it his safest course to submit in silence to Aunt Vi’let. If there was a being in the world, toward whom Vi’let bore a decided antipathy, that being was Nanny Boynton. This antipathy was partly caused by the conviction that the latter was addicted to witchcraft; a belief in which, not being yet wholly dispelled from the minds of the ignorant and uneducated in Salem. In Vi’let it existed in as full force as any of the articles of her religious creed; it might, indeed, be said to be one of them—and her feelings toward Nanny were governed by it accordingly; imputing to her agency every untoward event which occurred in the family generally, but more particularly her own private mishaps, her ailments and vexations. No fear, however, found a place in her feelings toward her enemy; for had the latter attacked her, backed by him of the cloven foot, in bodily shape, she was of a temper and spirit to hold her ground and berate the foul fiend to his face; and if he had not fairly turned and fled, panic-struck at the torrent of abuse accompanying her adjurations, he had proved himself, indeed, a brave spirit.