Family Pride

"What's this?" he asked, lifting the crape veil and dropping it again with an impatient gesture as Helen replied: "It is Katy's mourning veil."

Contrary to his expectations, black was becoming to Katy, who looked like a pure white lily, as, leaning on Wilford's arm next day, she stood by the grave where they were burying her child.

Wilford had spoken to her of Greenwood, but she had begged so hard that he had given up that idea, suggesting next, as more in accordance with city custom, that she remain at home while he only followed to the grave; but from this Katy recoiled in such distress that he gave up too, and bore, magnanimously, as he thought, the sight of all the Barlows standing around that grave, alike mourners with himself, and all a right to be there. Wilford felt his loss deeply, and his heart ached to its very core as he heard the gravel rattling down upon the coffin lid which covered the beautiful child he had loved so much. But amid it all he never for a moment forgot that he was Wilford Cameron, and infinitely superior to the crowd around him--except, indeed, his wife, his sister, Dr. Grant, and Helen. He could bear to see them sorry, and feel that by their sorrow they honored the memory of his child. But for the rest--the village herd, with the Barlows in their train--he had no affinity, and his manner was as haughty and distant as ever as he passed through their midst back to the carriage, which took him again to the farmhouse.