hich she had worn over her wedding bonnet was still in her
possession, and that she was turning it over in her fingers. "I fancied
I gave it to Jemima when her first baby was born," she muttered
dreamily. It was darned and yellow, but it carried her back all the same,
and recalled happy hours with wonderful vividness. She remembered the
post-chaise and the postillion. "He was such a pert little fellow, and
how we laughed at him! He must be either dead or a very shaky old man
by now," said the old lady. She seemed to smell the scent of meadow-sweet
that was so powerful in a lane through which they drove; and how clearly
she could see the clean little country inn where they spent the
honeymoon! She seemed to be there now, taking off her bonnet and shawl,
in the quaint clean chamber, with the heavy oak rafters, and the jasmine
coming in at the window, and glancing with pardonable pride at the fair
face reflected in the mirror. But as she laid her things on the
patchwork coverlet, it seemed to her that the lace veil became fine white
linen, and was folded about a figure that lay in the bed; and when she
looked round the room again everything was draped in white--white blinds
hung before the windows, and even the old oak chest and the press were
covered with clean white cloths, after the decent custom of the country;
whilst from the church tower without the passing bell tolled slowly. She
had not seen the face of the corpse, and a strange anxiety came over her
to count the strokes of the bell, which tell if it is a man, woman, or
child who has passed away. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven! No
more. It was a woman, and when she looked on the face of the dead she
saw her own. But even as she looked the fair linen of the grave-clothes
became the buoyant drapery of another figure, in whose face she found a
strange recognition of the lineaments of the dead with all the
loveliness of the bride. But ah! more, much more! On that face there was
a beauty not doomed to wither, before those happy eyes lay a future
unshadowed by the imperfections of earthly prospects, and the folds of
that robe were white as no fuller on earth can white them. The window
curtain parted, the jasmine flowers bowed their heads, the spirit passed
from the chamber of death, and the old lady's dream was ended.

* * * * *

Miss Letitia had shared a cracker with the widow. The widow squeaked
when the cracker went off, and the