“It is much better so. There will be nothing painful to remember,” said that lady.
“Mother, mother!” and Lilian roused suddenly.
“My dear,” said Miss Arran, “she has gone to her rest in the most peaceful manner. The doctor said it might be so, and you have done your full duty. My dear, you can go to your own mother’s arms with the clearest conscience. I am glad, we are all glad that you elected to stay, though your father, in his first indignation, would have swept you away. I hardly see how you won your way. Come to Mrs. Dane’s room and have a cup of coffee.”
She gave one long look at the still face. Oh, how thin and worn it was, yet there was a certain peacefulness that comforted the girl. Mrs. Harrington came in and kissed her tenderly. “It is all as we would have it,” she said. “And whatever mistake Mrs. Boyd might have made must be balanced by the thought that if there had been no one, as she believed, she would have taken you to her heart just as gladly, done for you with the same cheerfulness. This is what she did; you must always keep it in mind. And now—can you help make some arrangements? Whatever money is needed——”
“Oh, Mrs. Barrington, I think there will be enough. She still had some of her insurance money that she had used only in emergencies. And we have needed so little here. Oh, you have all been so kind,” in her grateful, broken voice.
Then Dr. Kendricks was announced.
“I supposed it would be that way,” he said.
“Shall I make arrangements for the funeral. There is no one, I suppose——”
“It is too far away from her old friends for any of them to come, and I am sure Lilian would like it as simple and quiet as possible. I should say tomorrow morning. No one will go out of curiosity.”
“Then I will see about it at once. The Major is all impatience to have his daughter.”