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Mary's manner changed from indifference to sudden keen interest. "Gilder?" she exclaimed, questioningly. "Yes. You know who he is," Griggs answered; "the drygoods man." Garson in his turn showed a new excitement as he bent toward Mary. "Why, it's old Gilder, the man you "
"As well as I do Ella!" he repeated, "I love you a great deal better. She has not been to see me once. What is the reason?" Frank, who a moment before had stolen to Mary's side, answered for her, saying, "some one had told Ella that if she should have the fever, her curls would all drop off; and so," said he, "she won't come near you!" Just then Mrs.
The fact was, that Aunt Mary's preserving kettle was the best in the village, and there were at least a dozen or two of her neighbours, who did not think their sweetmeats good for any thing if not prepared in this favourite kettle. "Ain't it too bad!" ejaculated Aunt Mary, lifting her hands and then letting them fall quickly. "Ain't it too bad! But it is always so!
I had told Helen one day that I would be late to dinner on account of an important case. About three o'clock in the afternoon, however, I found that a certain book I needed was at the house, so I jumped into the car and went up after it. Mary's electric was out in front.
To the older girl it seemed a matter to smile over, and the corners of her mouth did dimple a little, until she realized that to Mary's supersensitive nature this was no trifle, and that she was suffering keenly from it. "Oh, I'm so ashamed," sobbed Mary. "I never want to look Mister Rob in the face again. I'd rather go home and miss the wedding than meet him any more."
And I wondered if the nightingale would find out the hose-in-hose, when I had planted six of them in the sunniest, cosiest corner of Mary's Meadow. For this was what I resolved to do, though I kept my resolve to myself, for which I was afterwards very glad.
They washed his white, brave body, sang over it, watched it all night in St. Mary's Church, ringed it with candles, sang solemn Masses over it, embalmed it with odours, and buried the bowels near the altar in a leaden vessel. All London flocked, priests with crosses and candles, people weeping silently and aloud, every man triumphant if he could even touch the bier.
Sunday was a much-dreaded day in Mary's calendar, partly because she surrendered herself to the maternal monologue of how dreadful it was to have a daughter in business and not a lady in a home of her own, and partly because she missed the office routine and the magical stimulation of Steve's presence.
It was late when you came this morning, you know." "Excuse me, if you please," said Miss Carson, as she moved on. "I am not very well to-night. To-morrow I will make it up." Mrs. Lowe muttered something that was not heard by the seamstress, who kept on down stairs, and left the house. The rain was still falling and the wind blowing. Mary's feet were quite wet again by the time she reached home.
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