My Mother's Rival / Everyday Life Library No. 4

et one person in the house, or one on the estate. Sir Roland laughed when he saw the preparations-the beef, the blankets, t

id; "this will cost far more

she said; "it will brin

go; then, when we were quite alone, the wind wailing, the snow falling and beating up against the windows, she would ask me to read to her the beautiful gospel story of the star in the East and the child born in the stable because th

ed why that story, more than any

w aft

low and purple crocuses appeared; in the clear, cold air there was a

itted to share them with her. She looked very pale and beautiful, and she was most loving to me. When I bade her good-night she held me in her arms as though she would never let me go. What words she whispered to me-so loving that I have n

," I asked, "ar

ra?" she

always lying here. You never move abo

first game we play at hare and hounds I s

in the dead of the night. I heard the galloping of horses and a carriage stop at the hall door. I thank Heaven even now that I did not connect these things with the illness of m

what a strange night it has been! I have heard

ear," she

ure she was keepin

hemently that she was startled. "You know how Heave

the truth; there is nothing wrong. See, I want you to have your brea

mamma?"

er afterward," was

persisted. "You do

dy's maid, miss

ld not tell a story, and she co

not eat it; my heart was heavy, and th

nging, no footsteps, no cheery voices; even the birds that mamma loved were all quiet-the very silence and quiet of death seemed to hang over the plac

ere she said Sir Roland was wai

arms-my own clasped together round h

ghing face of yesterday-so haggard, so worn, so w

e something to tell you-something which has h

cried, in an agony o

in an agony of grief on the ground. Those words, "Mamma is living," se

a is

ould have been bette

ou are only a child, I know, but it is just possible"-and here his voic

ood erect to show him

ook me in

death. You have had a little brother, but he only lived one hour. Now he is dead, and mamma is very dangerously ill.

could not realize what it meant. How often I had longed for brothers

my little brother, p

ully for a few min

you may, Laura;

aside as nurseries. One of them had been beautifully decorated with white lace and fl

ers, pale snowdrops and blue violets with green leaves;

est with you! I was not frightened; the beautiful, t

hours at least? I should like to have seen his pretty eyes and to have seen him just on

d you have given him h

e fellow, he would have been 'Sir Gerald Tayne, of Tayne Abbey.' How much dies in a ch

e use of such a t

r could answer that qu

again. "Good-by, my little brother," I s