l droop, and just at that
moment Abbie had been summoned below stairs to see Mr. Foster--and now
he was waiting down there, not for Abbie, but for the coffin and the
grave, and Abbie was----. And here Ester gave a low, shuddering moan,
and covered her eyes with her hands. Why had she come into that room
at all? And why was all this fearful time allowed to come to Abbie?
Poor, poor Abbie she had been so bright and so good, and Mr. Foster
had been so entirely her guide--how could she ever endure it? Ester
doubted much whether Abbie could ever bear to see _her_ again, she had
been so closely connected with all these bright days, over which so
fearful a pall had fallen. It would be very natural if she should
refuse even to _see_ her--and, indeed, Ester almost hoped she would.
It seemed to her that this was a woe too deep to be spoken of or
endured, only she said with a kind of desperation, "Things _must_ be
endured;" and there was a wild thought in her heart, that if she could
but have the ordering of events, all this bitter sorrow should never
be. There came a low, tremulous knock as an interruption to her
thoughts, and Maggie's swollen eyes and tear-stained face appeared at
the door with a message.

"If you please, Miss Ester, she wants you."

"Who?" asked Ester, with trembling lips and a sinking at her heart.

"Miss Abbie, ma'am; she asked for you, and said would you come to her
as soon as you could."

But it was hours after that before Ester brought herself to feel that
she _could_ go to her. Nothing had ever seemed so hard to her to do.
How to look, how to act, what to say, and above all, what _not_ to
say to this poor, widowed bride. These questions were by no means
answered, when she suddenly, in desperate haste, decided that if it
must be done, the sooner it was over the better, and she made all
speed to prepare herself for the visit; and yet there was enough of
Ester's personal self left, even on that morning, to send a
little quiver of complacency through her veins, as she bathed her
tear-stained face, and smoothed her disordered hair. Abbie had sent
for _her_. Abbie wanted her; she had sent twice. Evidently she had
turned to her for help. Miserably unable as she felt herself to give
it, still it was a comfort to feel that she was the one selected from
the household for companionship. Ester knew that Mrs. Ried had been
with her daughter for a few moments, and that Ralph had rushed in and
out again, too overco