To Christie that was the darkest hour of the dawn, but for David
sunrise had already come.
CHAPTER XIX.
LITTLE HEART'S-EASE.
WHEN it was all over, the long journey home, the quiet funeral, the
first sad excitement, then came the bitter moment when life says to
the bereaved: "Take up your burden and go on alone." Christie's had
been the still, tearless grief hardest to bear, most impossible to
comfort; and, while Mrs. Sterling bore her loss with the sweet
patience of a pious heart, and Letty mourned her brother with the
tender sorrow that finds relief in natural ways, the widow sat among
them, as tranquil, colorless, and mute, as if her soul had followed
David, leaving the shadow of her former self behind.
"He will not come to me, but I shall go to him," seemed to be the
thought that sustained her, and those who loved her said
despairingly to one another: "Her heart is broken: she will not
linger long."
But one woman wise in her own motherliness always answered
hopefully: "Don't you be troubled; Nater knows what's good for us,
and works in her own way. Hearts like this don't break, and sorrer
only makes 'em stronger. You mark my words: the blessed baby that's
a comin' in the summer will work a merrycle, and you'll see this
poor dear a happy woman yet.
Pages:
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474