Miss Ludington's Sister

the resurrection of the dead was preached, with what effect the convincing announcement of that doctrine w

received a more clear and positive assurance of what she had vaguely imagined before. But that there was any resurrection for her former self-that the br

ight, under some form, in some world, live again; but no priest had ever promised, nor any poet ever dream

moment that she comprehended the purport of Paul's argument, she had accepted its conclusion as an indubitable revelatio

ds of November into a bright and cheerful landscape, so

n a dream, smiling and weeping, and reading Paul's letter o

ich it had draped for so many years. As she was performing this symbolic act, it seemed to the old lady tha

ts reminded her that she had not eaten

rs sometimes becomes sweet by long indulgence. She might not welcome opinions which revolutionized the fixed ideas of her life, even though they should promise a more cheerful philosophy. If she did not accep

ehensions. She wore a smiling face, and the deep black in which she always dressed was s

taking him by the hand, le

n festooning them about Ida's picture, so that now the sweet girlish face seemed

of retrospection. Nay, more than that, it turned retrospection into anticipation. She no longer viewed her youth-time through the pensive haze of memory, but the rosy mist of hope. She should see it again, for was it not safe with God? Her p

garb was but one indication of

The servants laughed aloud about the house. The children of the gardener, ever before banishe

s herself alive for evermore, and that he should one day meet her, his love had assumed a colour and a reality it had never posse

the very air a fine quality of intoxication. The plac

to the later self which was to succeed him, he should be with her. Already his boyish self had no doubt greeted h

ve as scarcely more than a gross appetite. During his absence from home he had seen no woman's face that for a moment rivalled Ida's portrait. Shy and fastidious, he had found no pleasure in ladies' society, and had listened to his classmates' talk of fli

posed she would be glad to have him at home, for a while at lease, now that he had done with college. To Paul, at this time, the idea of any pursuit which would take him away fr

nd any profession which he might adop

ge course. To the advantages of this project he was, however, equally insensible. When she urged it on him, he said, "Why, aunty, one would say you were anxious to get rid of me. Don't we

ad to let th

nxious to get him away; but it

of Paul's devotion to Ida would have given her a clue to his meaning. She was filled with apprehension as she considered the effect which this infatuation, if it should continue to gain strength, might have upon one of Paul's dreamy temperament and excessive ideality. That she had devoted her own lonely and useless life to the cult of the past did not greatly matter, although in the light of her pre