' She was deeply sensitive as to
what would be said about it in Baltimore.
"Just before she died, she said, 'Do not bury me at Princess Anne,
where that fiend can come near me with his frightful Hat! Take me
to Baltimore, where there are no bog-ores, nor old family chattels,
to disturb the respectability of death. Apologize for my daughter,
_and do her justice_.'
"And so this grand woman died, in the confidence of a blessed
immortality, leaving us to vindicate her motives and continue her
conservative course, and to meet at her funeral next Friday, at our
church in Baltimore, where Rev. John Breckenridge will preach the
funeral sermon over this murdered saint.
"With conservative, yet proud, grief,
"Affectionately, your uncle,
"ALLAN McLANE."
"Oh, sir!" Vesta exclaimed, turning blindly towards her husband; "mother
is dead. Where can I turn?"
"Where but to me, poor soul!" Milburn replied, knowing nothing of Mrs.
Custis's late feelings against him. "Your father shall be notified, and
I am able to attend the funeral with you."
"It is in Baltimore," Vesta sobbed.
"Well, honey, there I am ordered by the doctor to go, and get above the
line of malaria, in the hills. I can make the effort now."
Her grief and loneliness deprived her of the will to refuse him.
Pages:
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473