Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1890-02-13
then retraced his steps, reading first
the inscription on the monument:
Sacred to the memory of
Elizabeth,
Wife of Caleb Field,
Who died Jan. - IS
Aged 10 years.
HE giVeth his beloved Sleep

to see if they were wilted, and he
thought he saw tear-drop in the heart
of one of them.
Poor little girl! | was a brute to
come up like that; | must tell mother. y
Frank Wainwright had a very good
and lovely mother, a mother who,
though devoted to her only child, had
been wise enough to train him nobly.
Their place was some two miles off,
among the most picturesque of the
Berkshire hills.
He almost ran to the drive, and
came upon his mother just as she was
descending from her carriage.
why, dear, what is it?" seeing him
SO flushed and hurried.
"Come into the house and will tell
you"
In few words he told eagerly what
he had seen, and soft look came over
Mrs. Wainwright's gentle face. Fiji
teen years before. about this time (and
she remembered the chrysanthemums
then in bloom), she had laid down
among them her little fair. dead daugh-
ter. Her heart bled as she spoke of the
flowers; he saw the anguish in her face
and stopped.
ooh, mother, forgive me, l never
thought of my sister" he said broken
". She bowed her head and they sat
silent, hand in hand, for a moment.
Then Mrs. w. spoke in low, sweet
voice:
81 should like to see this young girl
and, my son, no apology is needed for
what was unattended; a simple ex-
PLANTATION should suffice. Poor child!
I wonder if it was her mothers grave"
Rachel was astounded the next day
by seeing the Wainwright turnout at
their door,
She clapped on clean white apron
and showed Mrs. W., very civilly into
the parlor, and took the card into the
master.
''Humph!" he said. 81 don't want to
see her. Where's Chriss?"
'Here, father" she answered. She
had been reading beside him. and he
had never noticed her.
'It's Mrs. W., sir; she that bought
the Morris place. She's a real lady,
sir"
ooh, Rachel, what shall I say to
her?" exclaimed Chriss.
You don't need to say anything.
just go and smile at her, my lamb, and
she'll be satisfied, [ know
When Chriss saw the tall lady in
mourning her heart misgave her for a
moment until she heard her voice.
MY child" it said, ''you must won
der at my visit. 1t was my son Frank
who intruded upon you yesterday, and
who could not rest until | came to say
how entirely mistake it was
Chriss took courage to look up I'M
der her long eyelashes and was reas-
sured.
ooh, certainly, Mrs. W.; he was
very kind-and polite, / am sure, and
l thank you for coming"
Thank you, dear, and now I will
90. You have a pleasant home here,
Miss Field" she said, as Chriss walked
off with her to the carriage.
ooh! do you think so? Yes, it is
pleasant. Wait just one minute, Mrs.
W., please"
She ran swiftly out of sight, and re-
turned with an exquisite bunch of
white chrysanthemums.
uC JSttIo w w C1 Co.
She took the bunch and the small hand
with it into her own and laid a kiss
upon the pure young brow.
They're mothers flowers; she's dead,
you know" said Chriss, simply.
Il know, my dear, and [ shall cher
ish them; good-by."
ooh! Rachel! that's the loveliest
lady | ever saw!" cried Chriss, rushing
into the kitchen.
II suppose you won't look at any of
us now,n retorted the old woman, and
was huffed and offended for two whole
days. A week after that there came
an invitation to take tea with Mrs. W.,
and great were the prepa1 ations for the
event, and Rachel was very proud OF
her darling as she drove off arrayed in
pretty, quaint gown of lilac, with ruff
file of red lace at her neck and wrists.
''She's pretty as peach" declared
her old nurse, with them sweet blue
eyes and them little pink cheeks, SO
she is. D."
Mrs. W. met her, and a wave OF
emotion went over her, and she thought
of her own lost darling.
Nov, dear, we are friends, YOU
know" said Mrs. W., as they sat down
together in the beautiful library, land
| don't even know your name.n
Mother named me Chrysanthea, and
they call me Chriss. You see | was
born in October, the same as the flow
ers, and | suppose that made her think
of the name. l was only two years
old when she died"
GtTy-o y-ooT-C old bo q
pang through the mothers heart. She
sighed heavily, then crossed the room
and took a portrait from the table and
gave it into Chriss' hand. 1t was that
of a dear little dimpled girl, with an
upturned, laughing face.
My daughter, Mrs. w. said.
"Oh, have you daughter? What a
pretty childr' Then seeing the sad,
troubled look in her friends face she
threw herself on her knees and buried
her head in Mrs. WIS lap. After that
they were more than friends. A sweet
sense of peace flooded Mrs. WIS moth
erly heart as she held that girlish form
in her arms and passed her fingers
through the dark, cinging curls, and
she learned all the cruel loss that
young heart had suffered, unconscious
of how it revealed the very depths OF
an unsulied nature of the tenderest
kind.
What wonder if Mrs. W. thought;
''Oh, heart of gold! If she could only
be my daughter indeed!' And so ii
came to pass that the very next year.
when the chrysauthemums were in full
bloom, Frank Wainwright led his
bride to the little village church.
Old Rachael brings their children
often NOW To the Snnnt r,-ho,.n thn;,