She hailed the first car that came in sight, and even though she was
obliged to take a second car, she reached Hughes street about twenty
minutes of two.
As she entered the home of the Richardsons she was met by a kind-looking
woman, a neighbor, whom she had seen once or twice during her illness,
and with a quivering lip she begged that she might go into the parlor
herself and take a look at her friend before the people began to gather.
Permission was readily given to her, the woman herself leading the way,
and considerately shutting the door so that she might be by herself, as
she took her last look at the dear friend who had been so kind to her.
Mrs. Richardson must have died suddenly, she thought, for she was not
changed in the least, and lay as if calmly asleep. There was nothing
ghastly or unpleasant about her. A look of peace and rest was on the
sweet face. Her hair had been dressed just as she was in the habit of
wearing it, and a mass of soft lace had been filled into the front of
her dress, while some one had placed a few sprays of mignonette and
lilies of the valley in her still hands.
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