"You may call it heavenly if you choose. Stay here till the funeral is over, and I will send for you. Are you worn out, child?" He had withdrawn his arm, and now looked anxiously at her colorless face.
"No, sir."
"Then why are you so very pale?"
"Did you ever see me, sir, when I was anything else?"
"I have seen you look less ghostly. Good-by." He left the house without even shaking hands.
The day which succeeded was very gloomy, and, after the funeral rites had been performed, and the second day looked in, Beulah's heart rejoiced at the prospect of returning home. Clara shrank from the thought of being left alone, the little cottage was so desolate. She would give it up now, of course, and find a cheap boarding house; but the furniture must be rubbed and sent down to an auction room, and she dreaded the separation from all the objects which linked her with the past.
"Clara, I have been commissioned to invite you to spend several days with me, until you can select a boarding house. Dr. Hartwell will be glad to have you come."
"Did he say so?" asked the mourner, shading her face with her hand.
"He told me I must bring you home with me," answered Beulah.
"Oh, how good, how noble he is! Beulah, you are lucky, lucky indeed." She dropped her head on her arms.