Year: 1873




There was unusual stir among the
servants of "Lindley Grange" The
windows of the great house were all
open, and through them could be seen
busy hands festooning gariands on the
walls and over the paintings, while rare
exotics were arranged in the. antique
vases.


Many months had passed since "The
Grange" had been decorated with flow
ers. The last time it was with flowers
all pale, none of brilliant hue, for she
that had been once the brightest flower
blooming there, lay faded, cold and
dead. Twelve months had passed, and
the tiny forms had ever since been deck
ed with some badge telling of their loss.
The motherless ones were that day to
cast aside their garb of sorrow. Yes, a
new mother was coming, and no re-
minder of past must cloud her joy.


Nurse Cummings was gazing with a
frowniEg brow on the great prepara-
tions going on. Closer to her fond heart
she clasped the babe, and drew little
Willie from the drawing-room door, in
to which he was peeping with wonder
ing eyes, back into cozy, beautiful
room beyond = into mammals own
ROOM" And there the devoted woman
stood with her nilrsling before the pic
tured face of her whose vacant place
was that day to be filled by another.
That sacred room was already occupied
by another one, child whose heart
needed no torturing. May had thrown
herself on the sofa, her sweet face hid
den amid the customs, as if she wanted
to shut out from her eye and ear: the
sights and sounds of merry making.
She was old enough to feel all that
Nurse Cummings would fain have
taught the younger ones. Springing
up, she stood with them before their
mothers portrait, and with her little
hands folded over almost bursting heart
she sobbed forth:


"Though your place in papa's heart
and home be given to another, dear
mamma, your children will never aerer,
let any other make them feel your loss
the less, and never fill your place in
their hearts,





any own darling! Thank Heaven you
are so like your dear mamma. He can
not forget her while you are by. But
come, dry your tears, my precious. 1
would have you look as pretty as can
be, and that will remind him, even at
his new wife's side, of her whose beau
ty none could surpass. If this one is
good and gentle, she will remind him
of one that was better, aye, than the
best that can live. And if she is proud,
and has will of her own, o then he
will ever be thinking of the one that
only knew the pride of being his! We
will not sorrow, my May! Mamma can
not be forgotten, even by him."


'Nurse, nurse, where are your chill
dren? Come! tie on their ribbons; you
have no time to lose. Their papa and"
The word was unsaid. Even the mer-
ry tongue of the housemaid could not
give that name to another, a stranger.
"The company will be here in fifteen
minutes"


: But that was time sufficient to smooth
Willie's raven hair, catch back the gol-
den curls that fell over Mays broad,
white brow, wipe the traces of teaIs
from the blue eyes, and tie on the bright
ribbons.


The children were ready. In another
moment the roll of the chaise was heard
approaching the house.


The servants gathered around, all
anxious to catch glimpse of the new
mistress-to welcome her, the master
thought-to decide if she was worthy
to fill the place of one to whose mem
ory they were all devoted.


All stood smiling but Nurse Cum
mings; she remained in the drawing
room with her little ones.


May sprang forward to throw her
arms around her father, who, hastily
kissing her, still clasping her with one
arm, drew her forward and said:


"Welcome your mother, my daugh-
ter"


The arms that had been raised to clasp
him were powerless then. Pale and
trembling she stood, and if any cry had
escaped her lips it would have been the
cry:


"No, no; not my mother!"


"Dear May" whispered voice clear
and sweet and tha child yaS nrasua1 to