mother."

"It was the thought of that lady which brought from Ethel the only note
of complaint she uttered in my presence during that whole dreary month."

"We were spending Sunday with a house party at Hyde Park; and driving to
church, we passed an avenue gate with a lodge. 'Rockhurst, sir,' said the
coachman. 'Whose place?' I inquired. 'The old Beverly place, sir.' Ethel
heard him tell me this; and as we went on, we saw a carriage and pair
coming down the avenue toward the gate with that look which horses always
seem to have when they are taking the family to church on Sunday morning."

"'If I see her,' said Ethel to me as we entered the door, 'I shall be
unable to say my prayers.'"

"But only young people came into the Beverly pew, and Ethel said her
prayers and also sang the hymn and chants very sweetly."

"After the service, we strolled together in the old and lovely grave yard
before starting homeward. We had told them that we should prefer to walk
back. The day was beautiful, and one could see a little blue piece of the
river, sparkling."

"'Here is where they are all buried,' said Ethel, and we paused before
brown old headstones with Beverly upon them. 'Died 1750; died 1767,'
continued Ethel, reading the names and inscriptions. 'I think one doesn't
mind the idea of lying in such a place as this.'"

"Some of the young people in the pew now came along the path. 'The
grandchildren,' said Ethel. 'She is probably too old to come to church.