out or a sudden burst of laughter from the
distant merry-makers, but here, below, it was all utterly silent. The
two little white cottages had no light in their windows, no smoke from
their chimneys, no sign of life anywhere.

"Mother's let the fire out," said Lilac.

Mrs Leigh came to a sudden standstill. "Lilac," she said, "my poor
child--"

Lilac looked up frightened and bewildered. Mrs Leigh's eyes were full
of tears, and she could hardly speak. She took Lilac's hand in hers and
held it tightly. "My poor child," she repeated.

"Oh, please, ma'am," cried Lilac, "let's be quick and go to Mother.
What ails her?"

"Nothing ails her," said Mrs Leigh solemnly; "nothing will ever ail her
any more. You must be brave for her sake, and remember that she loves
you still; but you will not hear her speak again on earth."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The revels on the hill broke up sooner than usual that night, and those
who had to pass the cottage on their way home trod softly and hushed
their children's laughter. For ill news travels fast, and before
nightfall there was no one who did not know that the Widow White was
dead.

And thus Lilac's May-Day reign held in its short space the greatest
happiness and the greatest sorrow of her life. Joy and smiles and
freshly-blooming flowers in the morning; sadness and tears and a
withered crown at night.

CHAPTER SIX.

ALONE.

"The spirit of a man will sustain his infirmity, but a wounded spirit
who can bear?"--_Proverbs_.

A few days after this Lilac sat on her little stool in her accustomed
corner, listening in a dreamy way to the muffled voices of Mrs Pinhorn
and Mrs Wishing. They spoke low, not because they did not wish her to
hear, but because, having just come from her mother's funeral, they felt
it befitted the occasion. As they talked they stitched busily at some
"black" which they were helping her to make, only pausing now and then
to glance round at her as though she were some strange animal, shake
their heads, and sigh heavily. Lilac had not cried much since her
mother's death, and was supposed by the neighbours to be taking it
wonderful easy-like. For the twentieth time Mrs Wishing was entering
slowly and fully into every detail connected with it--of all the doctor
had said of its having been caused by heart disease, of all she had said
herself, of all Mr Leigh had said; and if she paused a mome