A few days more, and Mark Brownson had passed from earth.

Many wondered at the very quiet and unostentatious style of the last
services for him; but the widow had said:

"In death it shall be with him as he always preferred in life."

And then when all was over, and the summer months were coming, Mrs.
Brownson sold out the modest little establishment, and, with her
daughters and their faithful servant, went to board by the seashore,
at a very fashionable resort; but, of course, not to mingle in the gay
festivities of the season, only to recruit her health, which was very
much impared by long attention to her suffering husband, and to have
the girls escape the heat and dust of the city.

A few days after they were settled in their new abode, Mrs. Brownson
said to her attendant:

"Margaret, you were very much surprised by hearing Mr. Brownson's
will."

"Oh, yes, ma'am, indeed I was."

"Well, Margaret, I do not wish you to mention anything about it down
here. Mr. Brownson, you know, never let it be known to the world. And
so it must be for the present. I do not wish my daughters to be
married for anything but their own good qualities. They are good and
beautiful enough to marry well, without having any other inducements
for suitors. Now, Margaret, you know just how I feel, and what I
mean?" said the anxious mother.