The Fulton County news. [volume] (McConnellsburg, Pa.) 1899-current, 1908-04-09
CHAPTER l.

would anybody else like to look
NJ the corpse before It is nailed
1own?"
The gruesome invitation uttered ia
the husky voice of Sandy Wright, the
undertaken, set the lawyers teeth
on edge. He was standing just with
In the door of the darkened room
where the mourners were assembled,
and as Sandy spoke he caught him
By the arm and whispered in his
sar.
Surely this is unnecessary. Miss
Murray wouldn't like it." And at the
same moment he cast a plying glance
towards the far corner of the room
where the orphaned daughter sat
In dropping attitude, pathetic fig-
nre of grief.
But Sandy was irrepressible.
"Hoots! She'll no mind. It's aye
dune; and Miss Murray herself gae
me orders to see that everything was
done In the usual way"
At last all was over, and the COM
pany were on their feet ready to go.
The undertakers, with what seemed
unnecessary noise, had taken the
cofiin with the old Dominie's body
through the narrow lobby of the
house out to the garden in front
where the company were assembling
to carry 1t 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 a word to her be-
fore he went. She was standing at
the door of the room, her pale, re-
fined face looking whittier by contrast
with her sable garments, but he no.
ticed that she swas not weeping; by
a strong effort she had maintained
her self-control. But the few words
Of sympathy he uttered made her lips
twitch and her eyes fill with tears,
and she thanked him In broken
voice.
There are some things-business
10 talk over" he added; but l won't
come back to-day. will leave them
over till next week." and she bowed
her mute appreciation of his kind
ness.
1t was a bright winter day, and a
soodly number had gathered to Carry
the old Dominic to his beautiful rest
ang-place. But as Sydney Anstruther
walked Nth them to the grave his
thoughts were moro with the daugh-
ter who had been bereaved than with
the old man who had been taken
away. How we'll he. remembered the
day on which he had first met Edith
Murray!
1t was fifteen years ago since he
had come to Dunthorpe, young law
yer from Edinburgh, to take up a
business and the agency of a bank:
and Mr.. Murray, the old Dominic.
had been one of the first to welcome
MIN. His only daughter, Edith, was
then lovely golden-haired girl, who
mad just finished school, with cheeks
like twin roses and bits of blue
heaven for her eyes; a laughing.
Aappy-hearted maiden, whose friend
snip had always been a delight to
hlm, and had served to brighten the
otherwise dull and monotonous ex-
astence he led In Dunthorpe. Ee had |
watched her grow up into woman |
hood, and his admiration for her had |
only increased with her growth of |
for though an only child.
and much INDUCED by her father, |
she was In no way spoiled; and,
though educated to G higher degree
than most young ladies in the place,
was not ambitious to shine in any
way but was content to be a good
housekeeper
But now-his heart was sore for
ner-for she would have to go out
into the world and earn her living.
and the thought of 1t filled him with
aismay and foreboding. That was
the one thing to be prevented If pos
siDie, and he set his brains a steep
% see If he could contrive a plan by
which 1t might be obviated.