' The brave Magnolia's eyes were red, when
she looked out of the window next morning, and jolly little Doctor Toole
said at the club--
'Ah, Sir, she was a bright little thing--a born lady--such a beauty--and
the best little creature. The town might well be proud of her, in every
way, Sir.' And he fell a blubbering; and old Major O'Neill, who was a
quiet and silent officer, cried in a reserved way, looking into the
fire, with his elbow on the mantelpiece. And Toole said, 'I don't know
how I'll pass that house.'
And many felt the same. Little Lily was there no more--and the Elms were
changed--the light and the grace were gone--and they were only dark old
trees now.
And everyone felt a great desire to find some way--any way--to show
their respect and affection for their good old rector. And I'm sure he
understood it--for liking and reverence, one way or another, will tell
their story. The hushed enquiries at the door, and little offers of
useless services made by stealth through the servants, and such like
foolish kindnesses at such a time--the evidence of a great but helpless
sympathy--are sweet as angelic music.
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