"Dead! Dead! My boy—my Charles!" From this one subject nothing could divert her thoughts. The sad, mournful wail bubbled up from her stricken heart as naturally as her breath issued from her lungs, moaning and breathing; yet not a tear moistened the burning eyeballs, until one morning while Vina was arranging her dress for the day and telling her how "de poor heart broke when little Shady went out and neber more come back," the unseen hand laid a finger upon the main-spring of human life and it stopped. Mrs. Belmont, the ambitious mistress of Rosedale was also dead! The flickering light of a once massive brain was blown out; the prison door opened, and the pent-up soul was gone! Now indeed were the shadows deepened! The emblems of mourning were upon the door and reflected their sombre shade's over everything within.
Colonel Hamilton could not leave his regiment, as they were engaged in active duty; and so the daughter laid her away in Woodland cemetery under the cool shadows, as the setting sun was scattering its last rays upon the sparkling waters at the base of the hill. As the birds were chanting their good-night songs the solemn cortege turned away—back to life with all of its coming and stirring events, yet with heavy hearts.
"Yes, darling, we will leave Aunt Vina sole mistress of all and go to Kirkham for a few weeks at least," Mrs. Hamilton said a few mornings after, in answer to her daughter's plea.
"Willie is so anxious to tell me something and ask me about it. It has been a whole year since my visit, and two since our separation, he writes. I am so glad you have consented."
Few preparations were needed, and in a week Willie and "Phebe" were once more sitting together in the little parlor, where as a diminutive waif she had entered more than twelve years before, alone and unattended. What power of prescience could have pictured the changes? What vicissitudes and pleasures; what a mixing up of joys and sorrows, of snarls and hair-breadth escapes there had been crowded into the rolling years.
"I guess I may better read the letter, for I can never tell you what is in it," said Willie, taking the well-worn missive from his pocket. "No, you may have that pleasure, while I will watch your face, reading as well as you."
"How you puzzle me, Willie. I have a good mind to run away alone to read it; you have made me nervous!"
"Not a step shall you go." But her quick eyes were following the page down at a rapid rate, and did not listen.
"O Willie!" she exclaimed as she turned the paper and went on. "Do you believe it? Can it be true?"
"He says so!"