The four Corners

by Amy Ella Blanchard

Miss Sarah drew up her chair and the two sat down. "I have been thinking," began Miss Helen, "that we could be very comfortable in the wing of this house. There are the two rooms up-stairs besides the attic and the three rooms down-stairs, including the office which we could use as a kitchen. Couldn't we move over such of our things as are saved from the fire and settle there, for the present, at least? Do you think Mary would object?"

"I think Mary would say it was the very thing to do, if it suited you."

"I think it would be better for mother to have a place she could call home. This is where she lived when she was first married, before my grandparents died and she went to Uplands. It is familiar to her. She could be near the children and yet could have the quiet which she is accustomed to. We can have Martha to do our work and I do not see that we could do better. Then, too," she paused in some embarrassment, "mother would want to pay a generous rent."

Miss Sarah raised her hand. "That must be settled by you and Mary," she said. "As for the rest, I know she will consent."

"Then will you send for Martha? And I am sure we shall be able to get settled very soon."

The result of this planning was that within a week Miss Helen and her mother were established in the old wing. During the time of preparation, Mrs. Corner did not leave her room, and seemed still dazed and shattered, but was quiet and docile, seldom showing any evidence of her old spirit. The furniture saved was supplemented by such new pieces as were needed and it really was a cozy little home into which Miss Helen took her mother. There was no lack of helpers. Friends, neighbors and kinsfolk were only too ready to lend their aid, though by far the most eager were the boys and girls of the house, who were willing runners of errands and did much toward making the rooms pretty and cozy.

Still, from the moment of her removal from Uplands, Mrs. Corner failed visibly. She rallied a little after going into the rooms prepared for her, and took a passing interest in them, but it was only a short time after that she grew weaker and at last could not even leave her bed. "It is the shock and the exposure," said Dr. Ward, looking grave when Miss Sarah questioned him. "I doubt if she gets over this, but we must try to keep Miss Helen in good heart." And with the knowledge that a broken, feeble old woman was nearing the brink of the dark river, the last vestige of ill-will left Miss Sarah, and she was a tower of strength to Miss Helen in her hour of trial.

The wind-swept, blackened rooms of the house at Uplands gave the children an awed feeling whenever they looked that way. From those of the rooms which were not completely burned out, the water-soaked furniture had been removed, except where, here and there, a scorched piece of drapery flapped from some broken window, or a charred article of furniture was visible through the gaps in the walls. The fire had started in a defective flue and one side of the house was in complete ruins.

It was a desolate sight to those who had known and loved its inmates, and of these perhaps the chief mourner was old Unc' Landy who, in spite of his railings at the former mistress of the mansion, now felt for her only pity. "Hit sho is hard fo' a proud uprighteous pusson lak ole miss ter give up all dese yer flesh-pots ob Egyp'," he said to Nan, "de quails an' de manna an' de gol'en calf what she been a hankerin' arter in de days ob huh youf. Yas, Lord, yuh done lay yo' han' mighty heaby on huh, an' I suttinly does groan in spi'it when I sees how de mighty fallen. I sholy does wrastle wid de Lord in de night season implorin' Him to hab mercy on huh po' soul."

Such talk was awe-inspiring to the children, not one of whom thought of anything but the favors their grandmother had shown them, and all of whom were ready and eager to do the least thing they could to add to her comfort or to their Aunt Helen's.