ys returned with the odor of the lilacs. She yielded to a vague,
crazy notion, and in an impulsive, girlish run she went to the corner
of the porch and broke a sprig from the lilac-tree.

Then with a short sigh, that had just the hint of a smile in it, she
took the lilac sprig into the house. Perhaps she fancied that no one
would see the flowers but she. Maybe the oppressive stillness of the
empty house burdened her. Certainly something was heavy upon her, for
there was no smile in the sigh that came deeply from her heart, as she
locked the door. It must have seemed lonely for Miss Morgan, coming
from the crowded parlor, and the questions that her friends asked
about her plans may have followed her. Perhaps it was the answer to
these questions that kept her awake. She sat by her window and went
over and over again the question, what should she do. The wedding that
had so recently livened the cottage kept coming to the little old
woman's mind, and with it came the bride. When the other children had
gone away, Miss Morgan let them go with her blessing, and was glad of
their good fortunes. But this last child to go had been Miss Morgan's
pet. As the lonely spinster sat there she recalled how the child had
been moulded by her; how she had fancied the child's heart was hers,
cherishing in it the ideals, the sentiment, the tendernesses that the
older heart had held sacred for a lifetime. Miss Morgan recalled how
she and the girl had mingled their tears over the first long dress
that their hands made, knowing, each of them, that it meant the coming
of the parting. As she looked into the awful vistas of the stars, the
woman knew that she was one of God's creatures, all alone--without one
soul that she might even signal to.

[Illustration: _The first long dress_.]

The word "alone" came to her so strangely that she repeated it in a
whisper. Its sound touched some string within her bosom, and she put
her head upon the open window sill and wept, sobbing the word "alone"
until sleep soothed her.

The morning sunlight helped Miss Morgan to put aside the problems of
the night; she hummed an old war tune as she went about her work, but
it did not lift the silence from the house. The rooms that a few days
before had been vocal with life, were so dead that the clock ticking
in the parlor might be heard in the kitchen. The canary's cheerful
song echoed shrilly through the silent place. Miss Morgan said to him,
"Dickey, Dickey, for gr