"I think, dear, the vultures will all be in Economy to-day."

"All except Mrs. Frost, mother dear. She can't get away. But she can

always run across the street to borrow a cup of soda."

So Lynn knelt for a moment in her quiet room, then came down, kissed

her mother and father with a face of brave serenity, and went down the

maple shaded street with her silk work bag in her hand. And none too

soon. As she tapped at the door of the Carter house she saw Mrs. Frost

ambling purposefully out of the Gibson gate with a tea cup in her hand.

"Oh, hurry upstairs and stay there a minute till I get rid of Mrs.

Frost," Lynn whispered smiling as her hostess let her in. "I've come to

spend the day with you, and she'll stay till she's told you all the

news and there won't be any left for me."

Mrs. Carter, greatly delighted with Lynn's company, hurried obediently

up the stairs and Lynn met the interloper, supplied her with the cup of

salt she had come for this time, said Mrs. Carter was upstairs making

the beds and she wouldn't bother her to come down,--beds, mind

you, as if Mark was at home of course--and Mrs. Frost went back across

the street puzzled and baffled and resolved to come back later for an

egg after that forward young daughter of the minister was gone.

Lynn locked the front door and ran up stairs. She tolled her hostess up

to the attic to show her some ancient gowns and poke bonnets that she

hadn't seen since she was a little girl in which she and Mark used to

dress up and play history stories.

Half the morning she kept her up there looking at garments long folded

away, whose wearers had slept in the church yard many years; trinkets

of other days, quaint old pictures, photographs and daguerreotypes, and

a beautiful curl of Mark's--: "Marilyn, I'm going to give that to you," the mother said as she saw

the shining thing lying in the girl's hand, "There's no one living to

care for it after I'm gone, and you will keep it I know till you're

sure there's no one would want it I--mean--!"

"I understand what you mean," said Marilyn, "I will keep it and love

it--for you--and for him. And if there is ever anybody else that--

deserves it--why I'll give it to them--!" Then they both laughed to

hide the tears behind the unspoken thoughts, and the mother added a

little stubbed shoe and a sheer muslin cap, all delicate embroidery and

hemstitching: "They go together," she said simply, and Lynn wrapped them all

carefully in a bit of tissue paper and laid them in her silk bag. As

she turned away she held it close to her heart while the mother closed

the shutters. She shuddered to think of the place where Mark was

sitting now, being tried for his life. Her heart flew over the road,

entered the court and stood close by his side, with her hand on his

shoulder, and then slipped it in his. She wondered if he knew that she

was praying, praying, praying for him and standing by him, taking the

burden of what would have been his mother's grief if she had known, as

well as the heavy burden of her own sorrow.




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