Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1871-10-11

10 q black silk cloak and hood we quiet
81 stole through the streets after IL, and rang
ourselves against the hedge beyond the
crowd. No mourning was yet ready and
we put on our old black silk gowns and drew
.ac black wells closely over our straw bon
uois. The Clergyman young man with
bee as naturally white a. the surpicc be
ncrs-road the service 10 a subdued, quiet
voice. as if he felt the words.
10 the midst Of life we are in death
How true they we're.
Leaving all that remained Of poor Tom
Crump in its last resting place, the procession
,ook its way back again, Mrs. Sand sobbing
giibly Perhaps ought to say that she
pcct being paid to her as lady-had had
her place next the coffin. All the rest were
f-hermen and their wives the boy had no
relations left in the world. Letting them
rc, away, we started next, walking slowly
Ii5mewards II had been an afternoon iuner-
10 the sun was sinking in the west and
hi. glorious beams fell athwart the calm blue
sca.
Dorothy, we must get away from the
place now. Perhaps tomorrow"
" Yes, Of course, we must, Mrs. Whit
nall
She spoke the works quietly enough aud
her pale face was calm. Whether the coming
cut had aroused her from her apathy, don't
.now, but she began making out plans and
suggestons what to do for the best ] mean
in regard to quitting the town for our London
home.
The tea things were on the table when we
got in, aud Mrs, James came in with de-
Dlu,er Of wine pressing Us to take glass.
It was very kind Of her know she had got
f on purpose but we did not take 1t. Tea
would be best.
Dorothy, what shame it brings to me "
mlrmured Mrs. Whitnal, as | sat down to
make the tea fear quite sighted her
in my heart as an inferior, looking at her po-
,ition. What is there left for me but to get
my living By something of the kind She
rs no doubt once as good as ! was-per-
better. Calamity brings home TO us a
nge sense Of our sins"
Inc children went up TO Mrs. Sands when
was over she had sent for them at the
nelly dusk hour more than once. Mrs
liinal, weary with soboing, for she had
ai fit of crying after tea, lay on the sofa,
hoped, asleep. | sat at the darkening win
o1fs. weaving plans for the future 10 my ach-
hrain. As Mrs. james came back
I'VE shall be leaving you tomorrow, be-
eve" said Mrs Whiinal to her Thank
0u for all your Kindness. You must let me
loe what am in your debt--two weeks, is
not?'
Mrs. James burst into tears NAY you
ere quite welcome to have been in the rooms
utan don't say anything about payment"
For she knew how things were with u.s.
may almost nothing was left to 60 on with at
present; nothing at all for the future She
vas true, kind gentlewoman, though she
I'D let lodgings.
There was really little ready money left,
poor Roberts quarterly instalments from
the government post he held only sufhced to
keep us going His salary was not large; in
another year, had he lived, it would have
been nearly doubled. There would be the
proceeds from some Of the furniture; for Of
course the best Of that would have to be sold.
might bring in-ssy hundred pounds.
And what could she do with so small sum
as that2 Why, before she could turn herself
round and start in anything--if aught could
be- found to start ina good portion of it
must be spent on present needs.
The travelling up to town and the paying
Mira. James, for she certainly should be paid (;
and the purchase of mourning and the pay
ing Of the two maids in London; and the
eating and drinking-my mind ran through il
oh. In case Of bereavement like this il
there were no God TO provide, where would
people be?
My own perplexity did not give me much
care 1t glanced into my mind now and
again, but could not help that. A relative
OF Robert Whitnalls, had lived with then
TO be useful, and had been paid enough t.
buy my clothes. Partly friend, partly gov
crness, partly servaDt--at least so far AS Otter
doing the work of one--l had been quit,
happy and loved them all. 1t might not b.
easy to find another such place as this, bu
rather difficult. Still | was nothing; If
could but see them
You are all in the dark here ~
The voice startled me to sickness 1t wa
like Mr.. Whitnsll's. | had thought whei
the parlor door opened that it was Alex VIII
came 10.
Robert Roberf?"
Mrs. Whitnall rose from the sofa as thougl
she had been shot. The call was hers. In
stlnct guided her to him in the darkness, an,
the next moment che lay sobbing hysterioall.
in ais arms.
IL was Robert Whitnall Robert himsel
De very deed and truth. But | hardly be
ged it for some minutes. The childre
came rushing in pel-mell from Mrs. Ssnd'r
ia delirous excitement.
Papa, papa How have you come to liz
,aiu?'
For the Captain had come to life at hi
= ae Also and told the news to our children
have been all the way to Harlingen,
70 Mr.. Whitnall. Surely, you did not thinI
| ls dead all this while ?"
Without an explanation we wondered how
$50 we're 10 have thought otherwise. He CAV
j. ID few words.
They had been in danger of perishing il
thlt irail yacht Of Captain Sands. The win'
rdsc suddenly, preventing their return Il
shore; it increased to fearful gale, and eveI
the experienced seaman found that for once h.
could DOT manage his iavorite Margaret Ann
A steamer going down the channel, on th'
way TO Harlingen saved them, but the zach
ha4 to be abandoned to her fate. What tina
fte was, the plank had proved to us Tn
steamer was likewise caught by the gale, ant
considerably delayed by 1t out at sea- but sh'
made lIarhngen ut last.
Bat why did you not write to us, Rob
EFT n | asked breathlessly, while the happ,
tears stole down Mrs. Whiiuall's checks.
" did write, Dorothy. The first thing
and Captain Sand did on getting into por
was to write letter to each. know the.
were posted, and cannot understand how
is you have not received them.'
But, papa, what long while you and b
must have stayed at Harrington ~
We had TO wait the steamers pleasure
Alex, my boy. Until that left We were fix
lures. But / never supposed you had beel
living without news OF US"
Dorothy, how can we ever be sufficient
thankful !" whispered Mrs. Whitnol, lookin
at me through her gistening eyes.
How, indeed
Papa, we're you really in danger of drown
inr 20