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Brown, Alice, 1857-1948

"Tiverton Tales"

Peace abode with her, and wrought its own fair work. She
ate her dinner slowly, with meditation and a thankful heart. She did
not need to hear the minister's careful catalogue of mercies received.
She was at home; that was enough.
After dinner, when she had done up the work, and left the kitchen
without spot or stain, she went upstairs, and took out her mother's
beautiful silk poplin, the one saved for great occasions, and only left
behind because she had chosen to be buried in her wedding gown. Lucy
Ann put it on with careful hands, and then laid about her neck the
wrought collar she had selected the day before. She looked at herself
in the glass, and arranged a gray curl with anxious scrutiny. No girl
adorning for her bridal could have examined every fold and line with a
more tender care. She stood there a long, long moment, and approved
herself.
"It's a wonder," she said reverently. "It's the greatest mercy anybody
ever had."
The afternoon waned, though not swiftly; for Time does not always
gallop when happiness pursues. Lucy Ann could almost hear the gliding
of his rhythmic feet. She did the things set aside for festivals, or
the days when we have company. She looked over the photograph album,
and turned the pages of the "Ladies' Wreath.


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