The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1883-12-15
ASHES TO ASHES.

against the old bureau looking at Hilda's
reflection in the convex mirror above us,
with the gilt eagle dangling chains and
balls from its beak, perched on the top.
Half shutter near us was open and the
only sunshine admitted into the house of
mourning streamed in right on Hilda's
little head of sunny hair, and her slim
white hands as they deity sorted, folded,
tied and labeled packet after packet from
the pile of papers before her. 1t caught
blue jar with a peacock's feather in it in
the green gloom behind her, and shone full
in the face of the dead master of the house,
smiling sedately from his picture frame at
his sweet, demure wife on the opposite
wall.
had done my share of the work, so
drew out the drawer-a long shallow one
for loose papers at the top of the old
fashioned escritoire; we had not noticed it
at first-and sat down with it on my lap in
the big, shabby armchair, sacred till now
to Uncle Johns own special use.
Odds and ends, such as seemingly grow
up of themselves in unused corners. A
key, whistle made of an elder twig, some
understanding berries strung into a brace.
let with garnet bead between, and COM
mon little red purse with portraits of the
Queen and Prince Albert on the back.
Utter trash.
"This is the last drawer" said Hilda,
presently. 81 think we have done every
ShiASo nov DNS 81 OfOi ~ Oh elS bOl q,
please"
thought carefully for moment, recall
ing, as well as | could, that grey dawniug
Chow many days ago, | wondered) when
the dear kind voice that l loved so well
spoke its last words to me-:
dorothy, dear, as soon as YOU reason
ably can after my death, take this key that
opens the four little drawers in my bureau.
1t is all yours. Everything | have is LETT
to your mother and you two. What YOU
find in the top drawer, put into my coffin.
l should like to take the poor trifles with
me, as far as l can. Then there are pri-
vate letters; read and destroy at your dis
erection. They are tied with green ribbon.
The business letters, tied with red tape, are
all in the right-hand drawers. Keep them
to assist Mortley in winding up affairs
God bless you, Dorothy. Marry some good
man who will take care of you-but don't
expectto be all the world to him. The best
of women. never was that yet to the best of
of husbands"
What made him say that, l wondered.
He seemed too tired for more speaking.
Hilda came in to take my place as nurse,
and | never saw him alive again.
In the uppermost left-hand drawer we
had found a pile of yellow letters directed
III a neat, sloping Italian hand to NV I'M
Gle, and indorsed in his square black writ
ing: "From my dear wife," and another
package, older and yellower, tied with
faded blue ribbon: "From Anne Pelham.
during our engagement" They lay on a
piece of soft muslin, easily recognizable as
the large handkerchief that covered Aunt
Anne's pretty shoulders in her portrait,
above the low bodice of her crimson satin
dress. The original of the little hair brooch
with the pearl setting was pinned to it. We
folded the letters in the limp diScolored
muslin, fastened them with the tiny brooch,
and laid them reverently at the dead mans
right hand in his coffin.
The rest had been a long DAYS work, but
all was now finished.
"You are tired, Dora darling" said Hill
da. 81 will run home and see mother, and
stay if she wants me. Get Mercy to bring
you some tea, and I'll come back when |
can"
Our mother, Mrs. Dorward, lived in a
little crooked cottage, all red-tiled roof and
chimney stacks, some little way down
High street, the one street of Fairdale.
She was partially paralyzed, and one of
US had always to stay with her while the
other acted as companion, and, lately, as
nurse to Uncle John. He was head of the
firm of Nationwide & Morley, solicitors,
and the offices occupied the ground floor of
the big red house that stood without inter-
vening railing or area ON the High street
pavement.
Uncle John had often begged my mother
20 take up her abode with him, but she had
grown used to her own house and her own
ways, and change was pain and weari-
ness to her,
"Hildan 70 exclaimed, suddenly pricked
as one sometimes is by an eXtravagant
fancy in moments of sadness. ."Have we
made mistake? Is this the drawer he
meant?"
so, Doraw said Hilda, with a world of
quiet reproof in her eyes. "When you
know all my aunt was to him. The best
loved yVOma n th3t avar lixa6
81 didn't think" l stammered, in my
confusioIf slipping the bracelet over my
wrist. "What is the key?"
"a duplicate one Of the bureau" sug-
gested Hilda, and she was right. "And the
whistle is what he used to make for us
children. slipped the purse, empty, into
my pocket and replaced the drawer. Hilda
glided away and old Mercy appeared with
q tray, as she cid half a dozen times day
feeding being inseparably connected with
bereavement in the ideas of her class.
"Do keep up and eat something, Miss
Dorothy, DEAR" ran her well-known for.
mula.
| complied. "Sit down and rest, Mercy
said, for was glad of the old woman's
company. "And tell me, did you know my
aunt when she was Miss Pelham"
"Of course | did! remembers as if it was
yesterday. The big house by the post .office
being done up, and the new brass plate on
the little green gate, 'Messrs. Parker and
Pelham, Surgeons And when | was told
that the new doctor-old Mr.. Parker's
nephew from Lon'on, he was-had got one
daughter, regular beauty, says directly
She'll just do for our Master John!' Ant
next Sunday there he was a.carrying hei
prayer-book home from church. like as if il
were fate; and a lovely couple they made
and church steeple and two lovers in the
bottom of my tea-cup that very same even
ing, as sure as you're alive. Miss Doro
thy!"
$50 it WAS love at first sight, Mercy"
"Well, may be 80. Everything was sc
suitable. DR.. Pelham had money and got
all the county practice at once; and Master
Johns father and mother they wanted &c
see him settled with some one they knew
and the young lady wasn't likely to have
met finer young man anywhere than oul
Master John. And so it all came about
quite providential-like."
"And they lived happy ever after"
ended the story for her, making a stray
sunbeam dance on my teaspoon.
"Aye, that they did. Never a crooked
word or cross look between them tina
ever / see. And lived with them married
for thirty year. and with him mournini