’Now, one word, Miss Tracy, about Hal.  I hain’t one to go halves in any thing, and I was meaner to him than pussly; but you’ll see what I’ll do.  I’ve met with a change, I swow, I have,’ and he laid his lavender kid on his stomach.  ’He never took them diamonds, nor May Jane’s pin, nor nothin’, and I’ve blasted it all over town that he didn’t, and I’ve got a kerridge hired, and some chaps, and a brass band, and a percession, and when Hal comes, there’s to be an oblation to the depot, with the bugle a playin’ “Hail to the Chief,” and them hired chips a histen’ him inter the kerridge, with the star-spangled banner a floatin’ over it, and a drawin’ him home without horses!  What do you think of that for high?’ and he chuckled merrily as he represented the programme he had prepared for Harold’s reception.

Jerrie shuddered, mentally hoping that Harold’s coming might be at night, and unheralded, so as to save him from what she knew would fill him with disgust.

That call of Peterkin’s was the last of a congratulatory nature made at Tracy Park for weeks, for the shadow of death had entered the grand old house, the doors and windows of which stood wide open, one lovely September morning, about a week after Arthur’s return.  But there was no stir or sign of life, except in the upper hall, near the door, and in the room where Maude Tracy was dying.  Jerrie had been with her constantly for two or three days, and the converse the two had held together would never be forgotten, Maude was so peaceful and happy, so sure of the home beyond, where she was going, and so lovely and sweet to those around her, thinking of everything and planning everything, even whose hands were to lower her into the grave.

‘Dick, and Fred, and Billy, and Harold,’ she said to Jerrie, one day, ’Something tells me Harold will be here in time for that; and if he is, I want those four to put me in the grave.  They can lift me, for I shall not be very heavy,’ and, with a smile, she held up her wasted arms and hands, not as large now as a child’s.  ‘And, Jerrie,’ she went on, ’I want the grave lined with boughs from our old playing place—­the four pines, you know—­and many, many flowers, for I shudder at the thought of the cold earth which would chill me in my coffin.  So, heap the grave with flowers, and come often to it, and think lovingly of me, lying there alone.  I am thinking so much of that poem Harold read me long ago of poor little Alice, the May queen, who said she should hear them as they passed, with their feet above her in the long and silent grass.  Maybe the dead can’t do that.  I don’t know, but if they can, I shall listen for you, and be glad when you are near me, and I know I shall wait on the golden seat by the river.  Remember your promise to tell Harold that it was all a mistake.  My mind gets clearer toward the end, and I see things differently from what I did once, and I know how I blundered.  You will tell him?’

Again Jerrie made the promise, with a sinking heart, not knowing to what it bound her; and as Maude was becoming tired, she bade her try to rest while she sat by and watched her.