Reaction

The light of a dark, cloudy morning shone faintly in at the window of
Grandma Nichols's room, and roused her from her slumber. On the
pillow beside her rested no youthful head--there was no kind voice
bidding her "good-morrow"--no gentle hand ministering to her
comfort--for 'Lena was gone, and on the table lay the note, which at
first escaped Mrs. Nichols's attention. Thinking her granddaughter
had arisen early and gone before her, she attempted to make her own
toilet, which was nearly completed, when her eye caught the note. It
was directed to her, and with a dim foreboding she: took it up,
reading that her child was gone--gone from those who should have
sustained her in her hour of trial, but who, instead, turned against
her, crushing her down, until in a state of desperation she had fled.
It was in vain that the breakfast-bell rang out its loud summons.
Grandma did not heed it; and when Corinda came up to seek her, she
started back in affright at the scene before her. Mrs. Nichols's cap
was not yet on, and her thin gray locks fell around her livid face as
she swayed from side to side, moaning at intervals, "God forgive me
that I broke her heart."

The sound of the opening door aroused her, and looking up she said,
pointing toward the vacant bed, "'Leny's gone; I've killed her."

Corinda waited for no more, but darting through the hall and down the
stairs, she rushed into the dining-room, announcing the startling
news that "old miss had done murdered Miss 'Lena, and hid her under
the bed!"