"I suppose," he answered gently, "it would make your grandmother happy
to know you were there. Wouldn't it be a token of forgiveness?"
"What do you think, Willie?" the girl asked.
"I agree with Bob that you should go, my dear," the old man replied.
"Somehow it seems as if your grandmother would rest the sweeter for
feelin' you were near by. An' anyhow, it's a mark of respect to the
dead. You're bound to show that, no matter how you feel. I'm pretty
sure that if you an' your grandmother had had the chance to get better
acquainted, you would have loved one another dearly. It was only that
it all came too late for you to feel toward her the same as Bob does."
"Perhaps!" Delight returned with half-dazed seriousness.
So it was decided the two young persons would go with the Galbraiths to
New York, and the next day they joined the Belleport family and
followed the body of the fine, stately old Southern woman to its last
resting place. There were no outside friends among the small group of
mourners, and the two days of constant and intimate companionship drew
them together with a closeness very vital in its results.
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