"So the last sad obsequies are over?" he remarked with a grin.

And we hated Uncle Roger. But we loved Uncle Blair because he
said quietly,

"And so you've buried your little comrade?"

So much may depend on the way a thing is said. But not even Uncle
Blair's sympathy could take the sting out of the fact that there
was no Paddy to get the froth that night at milking time.
Felicity cried bitterly all the time she was straining the milk.
Many human beings have gone to their graves unattended by as much
real regret as followed that one gray pussy cat to his.



CHAPTER XXX

PROPHECIES


"Here's a letter for you from father," said Felix, tossing it to
me as he came through the orchard gate. We had been picking
apples all day, but were taking a mid-afternoon rest around the
well, with a cup of its sparkling cold water to refresh us.

I opened the letter rather indifferently, for father, with all his
excellent and lovable traits, was but a poor correspondent; his
letters were usually very brief and very unimportant.