The citizen. (Frederick City, Md.) 1895-1923, 1908-04-10
CHAPTER /.

CaAf En- i.
s'Would anybody else like to look
IA the corpse before it is nailed
i6wa?"
The gruesome invitation uttered in
ne husky voice of Sandy Wright, the
cndertaker, set the lawyers teeth
m edge. He was standing just with
h the door of the darkened room
here the mourners were assembled,
md as Sandy spoke he caught him
1T the arm and whispered in his
ear.
Surely this is unnecessary. Miss
Murray wouldn't like it." And at the
anne moment he cast plying glance
awards the far corner of the room
here the orphaned daughter sat
b q dropping attitude, pathetic fig
Ire of grief.
But Sandy was irrepressible.
~Hoots! She'll no mind. It's aye
dune; and Miss Murray herself gaze
me orders to see that everything was
lone in the usual way"
At last all was over, and the COM
pany were on their feet ready to 90.
The undertakers, with what seemed
Unnecessary noise, had taken the
coffin with the old Dominie's body
Trough the narrow lobby of the
house out to the garden in front
whefe the company were assembling
% carry it to the old kirkyard beside
the loch and the ancient tree-shaded
church.
Sydney Anstruther waited till the
last to shake hands with Edith MUIR
ray and whisper word to her be-
lore he went. She was standing at
the door of the room, her pale, re-
med face looking whittier by contrast
Nth her sable garments, but he no.
iced that she was not weeping; by
b strong effort she had maintained
ner self-control. But the few words
o. sympathy he uttered made her lips
witch and her eyes fill with tears,
md She thanked him in a broken
Yoice.
There are some things-business
~ talk over" he added; "but l won't
come back to-day. 1 will leave them
over till next week." and she bowed
her mute appreciation of his kind
ness.
1t was a bright winter day, and
s0odly number had gathered to carry
the old Dominic to his beautiful rest
lng-place. But as Sydney Anstruther
Nalked NTH them to the grave his
thoughts were moro with the daugh-
1er who had been bereaved than with
the old man who had been taken
way. How well he remembered the
o9y on which he had first met Edith
Mtlrray!
IL was fifteen years ago since he
had come to Dunthorpe, a young law
YER from Edinburgh, to take up a
business and the agency of bank;
and Mr.. Murray, the old Dominic,
had been one of the first to welcome
him. His only daughter, Edith, was
men lovely golden-haired girl, who
mad just finished school, with cheeks
IKE twin roses and bits of blue
1eaven for her eyes; a laughing,
1appy-hearted maiden, whose friend
nip had always been a delight to
1im, and had served to brighten the
Qtherwise dull and monotonous ex-
19tence he led in Dunthorpe. He had
watched her grow up into woman
1ood, and his admiration for her had
only increased with her growth of
character; for though an only child,
md much INDUCED by her father,
ne was in no way spoiled; and,
Tough educated to G. higher degree
nan most young ladies in the place,
Uas not ambitious to shine in any
Hay, but was content to be a good
10usekeeper.
But now-his heart was sore for
1er-for she would have to go out
1nto the world and earn her living,
nd the thought of it filled him with
1lsmay and foreboding. That was
ne one thing to be prevented if pos
Ible, and he set his brains a steep
p see if he could contrive a plan by
hitch it might be obviated.