The gates ajar. By Elizabeth Stuart Phelps.

246 The Gates Ajar.
It was quite dark when she turned her face
at last towards the window.
"John!" she said, -" why, John!"
They came in, with heads uncovered and
voices hushed, to see her, in the days while she
was lying down stairs among the flowers.
Once when I thought that she was alone, I
went in, - it was at twilight, - and turned,
startled by a figure that was crouched sobbing
on the floor.
", I want to go too, I want to go too! " it
cried.
" She's ben there all day long," said Phoebe,
wiping her eyes, " and she won't go home for
a mouthful of victuals, poor creetur! but she
jest sets there and cries and cries, an' there's
no stoppin' of her!"
It was little Clo.
At another time, I was there with fresh
flowers, when the door opened, creaking a
little, and'Bin Quirk came in on tiptoe, trying
in vain to still the noise of his new boots.
His eyes were red and wet, and he held out to
me timidly a single white carnation.
"Could you put it somewhere, where it
would n't do any -harm? I walked way over