How can he enjoy a moment's rest, or swallow a morsel of food while he knows that his parents are sorrowing for him.
I have often been advised--it is easy enough to say the words--"Make up your mind to blot his name from your memory." But it is not so easy to follow such counsel.
My wife softly slumbered through the whole night. Will she ever again have so refreshing a sleep?
CHAPTER IV.
The morning was bright and clear. We were seated around the breakfast table, every one of us doubly oppressed. We were grieved on our own account, and troubled by the thought that the mother's heart was soon to become rent by the sad tidings.
Richard had told the news to Bertha.
My wife seemed to be watching Bertha, and at last reproved her for having been weeping again. "It is our duty," said she, "to accept the inevitable with resignation. Mankind might well be likened to the plants in the field, which are obliged quietly to submit to the storm that descends on their heads."
We exchanged hurried glances, but Bertha did not reply.
"Will my wife be as strong in a few moments from now?" was the question I inwardly asked myself.
Rothfuss was heard cracking his whip in front of the house. He was about to drive out into the fields, taking Martella with him.