Never since the memorable lawn party many years ago had there been so great a crowd in the house and grounds as on the day of the funeral.  In honor of his memory, and because he had given the school-house to the town, the school was closed, and the pupils, with Ruby Ann at their head, marched up the avenue with wreaths of autumn leaves and bouquets of flowers intended for the grave.  The Rev. Arthur Mason read the burial service, and as he glanced at the costly casket, nearly smothered in flowers, and at the crowd inside and out, he could not keep his thoughts from his father’s description of another funeral, where the dead woman lay in her cheap coffin, with Crackers and negroes as spectators; and only a demented woman, a little child, and black Jake and Mandy Ann as mourners.  The mourners here were Amy and Howard, Eloise and Jack, and next to him a plain-looking, elderly woman, who, Mrs. Biggs told every one near her, was old Mrs. Smith, Eloise’s supposed grandmother from Mayville.

Eloise had sent for her, and while telling the story of deception and wrong which had been practised so long, and to which the mother listened with streaming eyes, she had said, “But it makes no difference with us.  You are mine just the same, and wherever I live in the future, you are to live, too, if you will.”

Mrs. Smith had smiled upon the young girl, and felt bewildered and strange in this grand house and at this grand funeral, unlike anything she had ever seen.  It seemed like an endless line of carriages and foot passengers which followed the Colonel to the grave, and when the services were over, a few friends of the Colonel, who had come from a distance, returned to the house, and among them Mr. Ferris, the lawyer, who had been the Colonel’s counsel and adviser for years, and managed his affairs.  This was Howard’s idea.  He could not rest until he knew whether there was in the lawyer’s possession any will or papers bearing upon Amy.  When lunch was over he took the old man into his uncle’s library, and said, hesitatingly, “I do not want to be too hasty, but it is better to have such matters settled, and if I have no interest in the Crompton estate I must leave, of course.  Did my uncle leave a will?”

Lawyer Ferris looked at him keenly through his glasses, took a huge pinch of snuff, and blew a good deal of it from him and some in Howard’s face, making him sneeze before he replied, “Not that I know of; more’s the pity.  I tried my best to have him make one.  The last time I urged it he said, ‘There’s no need.  I’ve fixed it.  Amy will be all right.’  I was thinking of her.  If there is no will, and she wasn’t adopted and wasn’t his daughter, it’s hard lines for her.”

“But she was his daughter,” came in a clear, decided voice, and both the lawyer and Howard turned to see Eloise standing in the door.

Rain was beginning to fall, and she had come to close a window, with no thought that any one was in the library, until she heard the lawyer’s last words, which stopped her suddenly.  Where her mother was concerned she could be very brave, and, stepping into the room, she startled the two men with her assertion, “She was his daughter.”