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ETHEL CHURCHILL.
211

smile; "but do let me admire the result of yours. Why, my dear mother, I did not know how beautiful you were!" and he gazed with a natural touch of pride on the noble face and stately figure, to which time, while it stole freshness, had given dignity.

The tears, in despite of her efforts, swam in her eyes. He would not seem to see them; but, taking her hand, kissed it fervently as he led her forth. Deep and bitter is the grief that shrinks from words, even with those the most loved and trusted: and what a world of unspoken sorrow was in the soul of both mother and son as they crossed the threshold!