ally dead to her until the
bearers turned away with empty hands, and the friends with sorrowful
greeting passed out of the inclosure and left him alone to the coming
evening and the requiem of the wind soughing through the trees.

Doris sat by Miss Recompense that evening with Solomon on her lap. She
could not study, she did not want to read or sew or make lace. Uncle
Winthrop had gone up to Sudbury Street. All the family were to be there.
The Kings had come from New York and the Mannings from Salem.

"Oh," said Doris, after a long silence, "how can Aunt Elizabeth live,
and Betty and Warren, when they cannot see uncle Leverett any more! And
there are so many things to talk about, only they can never ask him any
questions, and he was so--so comforting. He was the first one that came
to me on the vessel, you know, and he said to Captain Grier, 'Have you a
little girl who has come from Old Boston to New Boston?' Then he put
his arm around me, and I liked him right away. And the great fire in the
hall was so lovely. I liked everybody but Aunt Priscilla, and now I feel
sorry for her and like her a good deal. Sometimes she gets queer and
what she calls 'pudgicky.' But she is real good to Betty."

"She's a sensible, clear-headed woman, and she has good solid
principles. I do suppose we all get a little queer. I can see it in
myself."

"Oh, dear Miss Recompense, you are not queer," protested Doris, seizing
her hand. "When I first came I was a little afraid--you were so very
nice. And then I remembered that Miss Arabella had all these nice ways,
and could not bear a cloth askew nor towels wrinkled instead of being
laid straight, nor anything spilled at the table, nor an untidy room,
and she was very sweet and nice. And then I tried to be as neat as I
could."

"I knew you had been well brought up." Miss Recompense was pleased
always to be compared to her "dear Miss Arabella." There was something
grateful to her woman's heart, that had long ago held a longing for a
child of her own, in the ardent tone Doris always uttered this
endearment.

"Miss Recompense, don't you think there is something in people loving
you? You want to love them in return. You want to do the things they
like. And when they smile and are glad, your whole heart is light with a
kind of inward sunshine. And I think if Mrs. Manning would smile on
Elizabeth once in a while, and tell her what she did was nice, and that
she was smart,--for she is very, very s