The yellow book: an illustrated quarterly (11.1896)

282 Lot 99
foffwriting, if you please, using the little capital Aunt Lizzie had
left him in the meantime.
I heard Uncle Willie’s voice rather distantly as our feet sounded
on the gravel, and felt a certain gratitude to him that, although
his position might have justified it, he did not touch on my life or
affairs. He simply told me that my new black was most becom-
ing, and that I had managed to make every one as comfortable as
possible on this sad occasion. I was relieved when he was gone,
and mechanically I turned into the library, which I knew now
would soon be dismantled, and although it was not from affection
as of old, once there, my feet seemed rooted.
After a time, Lionel and Jack came in, and we stayed there,
talking in our old quiet, undemonstrative way about the sale and
the arrangements we had to make. I remember my relief when
Lionel told me that if I did not want them, he and Jack would
like the photographs of our uncles and aunts; and he told me,
too, that Aunt Lizzie had said she thought I should like to have
some of the things that father had bought.
“ I don’t want any of them,” I said. “ Wouldn’t some museum
be glad of these things ! ” and I pointed to the birds and the fishes
and many other objects in the room.
I think Jack was a little shocked at my want of sentiment, but
Lionel’s smile, as he said ; “You never cared for relics,” took me
back to our childhood, the time when we were such great friends.