The Aberdeen weekly. [volume] (Aberdeen, Miss.) 1878-1933, 1919-11-07

'a18G0D0DO0DDD
they may be 4Ambersons, but they're
vulgar. I'm afraid almost agree with
him. At least, / think they were in
conSiderate
I'VE plan to stay six weeks II the
place agrees with him. 1t does really
seem to already He's just called In
the door 10 say he's waiting. Don't
smoke too much. darling boy.
"Devotedly. your mother.
ISABEL"
But she did not keep her husband
there for the six weeks she anticipated.
She did not keep him anywhere that
long. Three weeks after writing this
letter. she telegraphed suddenly to
George that they were leaving for
home at once; and four days later.
when he and q friend came whistling
into his study, from lunch at the club.
he found another telegram upon his
desk.
He read 1t twice before he compre-
hended it's import.
Papa left US at ten this morning.
dearest.
MOTHER"
The friend saw the change In his
face. Not bad news7"
George lifted utterly dumfounded
eyes from the yellow paper.
MY father" he said weakly. "She
says-she says he's dead. I've got to
go home"
L.
Major met him at the station when he
arrived-the first time the Major had
ever come to meet his grandson. The
old gentleman sat in his closed car
riage (Which still needed paint at the
entrance 10 the station, but he got out
and advanced to grasp Georges hand
TREMENDOUSLY, when the latter appeared.
Poor fellow" he said, and patted him
repeatedly upon the shoulder. Poor
fellow Poor Georgier
George noticed that the Majors
tremulousness did not disappear, as
they drove up the street, and that he
seemed much feebler than during the
summer. Principally. however. George
was concerned with his own emotion,
or rather, with his lack of emotion
and the anxious sympathy of his grand
father and his uncle made him feel
hvpocritical. He was not grief-strick-
en-; but he felt that he ought to be,
and, with a secret shame, concealed
his callousness beneath an affectatiOn
of solemnity.
But when he was taken into the
room where lay what was left of Will
bur Minafer, George had no longer to
pretend; his grief was sufficient. It
needed only the sight of that forever
inert semblance of the quiet man who
had been always so quiet part of his
sons life-So quiet part that George
had seldom been consciously aware
that his father was indeed a part of
his life. AS the figure lay there, It's
very quietness was what was most life
like; and suddenly it struck George
hard. And In that unexpected, racking
grief of his son, Wilbur Alinafer be-
came more wildly Georges father
than he had ever been in life.
When George left the ROOM his arm
was about his black-robed mother, his
He leaned upon his mother; she gently
CoHllOTteU HlIl anu presently he re-
covered his composure and became
self-conscious enough to wonder II he
had not been making an unmanly dis
play of himself. I'm all right again.
mother" he said awkwardly. Don't
worry about me: you'd better go lie
down, or something eyou look pretty
pale"
Isabel did look pretty pale. but not
CHASTITY pale, as Fanny did. Fanny's
grief was overwhelming; she stayed In
her room, and George did not see her
until the next day, few minutes be-
fore the funeral, when her haggard
face appalled, him.
The annoyance gave way before a
recollection of the sweet mournfulness
of his mothers face, as she had said
gOod-by 10 him at the station, and of
how lovely she looked in her mourning
He thought of Lucy, whom he had seen
only twice, and he could not help feel
xhn< to- IT, -