But I will run get
it. He told me to show it to you, and I forgot. I did not dream of all
this."
From my scrap-book I brought the slip, and Aunt Edna read:
"DIED.--Suddenly, of heart disease, on the morning of the
15th, Lilly, wife of Doctor Percy Graham, in the 34th year
of her age."
Aunt Edna remained holding the paper, without speaking, for some
minutes; then, handing it back to me, she said, softly, as if talking
to her friend:
"_Dear_ Lilly! Thank heaven, I gave to _you_ the _best_ I had to give,
and caused you nought but happiness. God is merciful! Had _he_ been
taken, and you left, how _could_ we have comforted you?" And then,
turning to me, she said: "Nearly a year it is since Lilly went to
heaven. 'Tis strange I have not heard of this."
"'Tis strange from him you have not heard," I thought; "and stranger
still 'twill be if he comes not when the year is over. For surely he
_must_ know that you are free--" But I kept my thoughts, and soon
after kissed aunty good-night.
One month passed, and the year was out. And somebody was in our
parlor, making arrangements to carry away Aunt Edna.
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