The bed-room of the deceased was a roomy apartment in a wing of the

building, and to this Mabel was summoned before she could seat

herself elsewhere.

"Miss Mary's compliments and love, ma'am; and she says won't you

please step in thar, and set with Mistis' friends and relations?"

was the audible message delivered to her by Mrs. Trent's spry

waiting-maid.

Herbert looked dubious, and Mrs. Aylett enlarged her fine eyes in a

manner that might mean either superciliousness or well-bred

amazement. But Mabel was neither surprised nor doubtful as to the

proper course for her to pursue. Time was when she was as much at

home here as Rosa herself, and Mrs. Tazewell's partiality for her

was shared by others of the family. That she had met none of them in

ten or twelve years, did not at a season like the present dampen

their affection. They would rather on this account seize upon the

opportunity of honoring publicly their mother's old favorite.

The chamber was less light than the hall she traversed to reach it.

She recognized Mary Trent, the daughter next in age to Rosa, who

fell upon her neck in a sobbing embrace, then the other sisters and

their brother, Morton Tazewell, with his wife, and was formally

presented to their children.

Finally she turned inquiringly toward a gentleman who stood against

the window opposite the door, with a little girl beside him.

Confused beyond measure, as the hitherto unthought-of consequences

of her impulsive action in sending for her friend rushed upon her

mind, Mrs. Trent faltered out: "I forgot! You must excuse me, but I was so anxious to see you. My

brother-in-law, Mr. Chilton. He arrived yesterday--not having heard

of mother's death."

And for the first time since they looked their passionate farewell

into each other's eyes under the rose-arch of the portico at

Ridgeley, on that rainy summer morning, the two who had been lovers

again touched hands.

"I hope you are quite well, Mr. Chilton," said Mabel's firm, gentle

voice. "Is this your daughter?" kissing the serious-faced child on

the forehead, and looking intently into her eyes in the hope of

discovering a resemblance to her mother.

Then she went back to a chair next to Mrs. Trent's, and began to

talk softly of the event that had called them together, not glancing

again at the window until the outer hall was stilled, that the

clergyman might begin the funeral prayer.

"The services will be concluded at the grave," was the announcement

that succeeded the sermon; and there followed the shuffling of the

bearers' feet, and their measured tramp across the floors and down

the steps of the back porch.




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