in waves behind her shoulders, a few strands lying on the
white skirt far below the slender waist, almost to the feet. The long
lashes lay upon the oval cheek; no one would ever see those bright brown
eyes again, and find fault with them because they were too narrow. The
lithe form was motionless; no one would ever again watch it move onward
with its peculiar swaying grace, and find fault with it because it was
too slender. Those who had not been willing to grant her beauty in life,
gazed at her now with tear-dimmed eyes, and willingly gave all the meed
of praise they had withheld before. Those who had not loved her while
she lived, forgot all, and burst into tears when they saw her now, the
delicately featured face once so proud and imperious, quiet forever,
grown strangely youthful too, like the face of a young girl.

Miss Teller sat beside her darling; to all she made the same set speech:
"Dear Ward, her husband, the one who loved her best, can not be here. I
am staying with her, therefore, until she is taken from us; then I shall
go to him, as _she_ would have wished." For Miss Teller believed no word
of the stories with which the newspapers teemed. Indignation and strong
affection supplied the place of whatever strength had been lacking in
her character, and never before in her life had she appeared as resolute
and clear-minded as now.

During the funeral services, Isabel Varce sat beside Miss Teller,
sobbing as if her heart would break. Rachel Bannert was next to Isabel.
She had looked once at Helen, only once, and her dark face had quivered
spasmodically; then she also took her seat beside the fair, still form,
and bowed her head. All Helen's companions were clad in mourning garb;
the tragedy of this death had invested it with a deeper sadness than
belonged to the passing away in the ordinary course of nature of even
closer friends. The old-fashioned mansion was full to overflowing; in
the halls and doorway, on the front steps, and even on the pavement
outside, men were standing, bare-headed and silent, many distinguished
faces being among them; society men also, who in general avoided
funerals as unpleasant and grewsome ceremonials. These had been Helen's
companions and friends; they had all liked and admired her, and as she
was borne past them, covered with heliotrope, there was not one whose
eyes did not grow stern in thinking of the dastard hand that did the
cruel deed.

That night, when darkness fell, man