of all descriptions were gathering at
the dwelling. They were driven by men with faces as rugged and
weather-beaten as the mountains around them. By their sides were
plain-featured matrons, whose rustic beauty had early faded under the
stress of life's toil, and apple-cheeked boys and girls, with faces
composed into the most unnatural and portentous gravity. There was a
sprinkling of young men, with visages so burned by the sun that they
might pass for civilized Indians. They were accompanied by young women
who, in their remote rural homes, had obtained hints from the world of
fashion, and after the manner of American girls had arrayed themselves
with a neatness and taste that was surprising; and the fresh pink and
white of their complexions made a pleasing contrast with their swains.
Although the occasion was one of solemnity, it was not without its
pleasurable excitement. They all knew about poor Tilly, and to-day
was the culmination of the little drama of her illness, the details of
which had been discussed for weeks among the neighbors--not in callous
curiosity, but with that strange blending of gossip and sympathy which
is found in rural districts. The conclusion of all such talk had been
a sigh and the words, "She is prepared to go."

The people as yet were gathered without the door and in groups under
the trees. Tilly's remains were still in her own little room, Mrs.
Wendall taking her farewell look with hollow, tearless eyes. A few
favored ones, chiefly the watchers who had aided the stricken mother,
were admitted to this retreat of sorrow.

When Dr. Sommers saw Madge and Graydon he came to them and said, "Mrs.
Wendall requested that when you came you and whoever accompanied you
should be brought to her. Tilly, before she died, expressed the wish
that you should sit with her mother during the funeral. No, no, Mr.
Muir, Mrs. Wendall would have no objection to any of Miss Alden's
friends. I can give you a seat here by this window. The other rooms
will be very crowded with those who are strangers to you."

Graydon found himself by the same window at which Madge had sat in her
long vigil. The bed had been removed, and in its place was a plain
yet tasteful casket. Mr. Wendall, with his head bowed down, sat at its
foot, wiping away tears from time to time with a bandana handkerchief.
Two or three stanch friends and helpers sat also in the room, for it
would appear that the Wendalls had no relatives in the vicinity.