Part 28 (2/2)

The man stared, then he whistled softly.

”Gorry!” he muttered, as he turned away.

If Jim and Ella had supposed that they could keep their aunt from attending her own ”funeral”--as Herrick persisted in calling it--they soon found their mistake. Mrs. Darling heard the bells of the first arrival.

”I guess mebbe I'll git up an' set up a spell,” she announced calmly to Ella. ”I'll have my wrapper an' my slippers, an' I'll set in the big chair out in the settin'-room. That's Parson Gerry's voice, an' I want ter see him.”

”But, Aunt Abby--” began Ella, feverishly.

”Well, I declare, if there ain't another sleigh drivin' in,” cried the old woman excitedly, sitting up in bed and peering through the little window. ”Must be they're givin' us a s'prise party. Now hurry, Ella, an'

git them slippers. I ain't a-goin' to lose none o' the fun!” And Ella, nervous, perplexed, and thoroughly frightened, did as she was bid.

In state, in the big rocking-chair, the old woman received her guests.

She said little, it is true, but she was there; and if she noticed that no guest entered the room without a few whispered words from Ella in the hall, she made no sign. Neither did she apparently consider it strange that ten women and six men should have braved the cold to spend fifteen rather embarra.s.sed minutes in her sitting-room--and for this last both Ella and Jim were devoutly grateful. They could not help wondering about it, however, after she had gone to bed, and the house was still.

”What do ye s'pose she thought?” whispered Jim.

”I don't know,” s.h.i.+vered Ella, ”but, Jim, wan't it awful?--Mis' Blair brought a white wreath--everlastin's!”

One by one the days pa.s.sed, and Jim and Ella ceased to tremble every time the old woman opened her lips. There was still that fearsome thing in the attic, but the chance of discovery was small now.

”If she _should_ find out,” Ella had said, ”'twould be the end of the money--fer us.”

”But she ain't a-goin' ter find out,” Jim had retorted. ”She can't last long, 'course, an' I guess she won't change the will now--unless some one tells her; an' I'll be plaguy careful there don't no one do that!”

The ”funeral” was a week old when Mrs. Darling came into the sitting-room one day, fully dressed.

”I put on all my clo's,” she said smilingly, in answer to Ella's shocked exclamation. ”I got restless, somehow, an' sick o' wrappers. Besides, I wanted to walk around the house a little. I git kind o' tired o' jest one room.” And she limped across the floor to the hall door.

”But, Aunt Abby, where ye goin' now?” faltered Ella.

”Jest up in the attic. I wanted ter see--” She stopped in apparent surprise. Ella and Jim had sprung to their feet.

”The attic!” they gasped.

”Yes, I--”

”But you mustn't!--you ain't strong enough!--you'll fall!--there's nothin' there!” they exclaimed wildly, talking both together and hurrying forward.

”Oh, I guess 't won't kill me,” said the old woman; and something in the tone of her voice made them fall back. They were still staring into each other's eyes when the hall door closed sharply behind her.

”It's all--up!” breathed Jim.

Fully fifteen minutes pa.s.sed before the old woman came back. She entered the room quietly, and limped across the floor to the chair by the window.

”It's real pretty,” she said. ”I allers did like gray.”

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