"Don't cry, Judith, please don't cry."
Oh, matchless comforter!
After a time we notice that Bruno is growing old and feeble.
Do we grieve at this? Far from it. We feel that life is over for us; our only thought is to escape its grasp and join our Little Blossom.
We could never leave Bruno alone; he would grieve himself to death, and meanwhile, perhaps, be abused as a stupid brute for refusing to be comforted.
So it is with a feeling of sad resignation that we realize how his hold on life is weakening. At least he will die in comfort, ministered to by his loved ones.
We sit alone, we three, in the twilight,—Julius and I, with Bruno at our feet,—talking of the future. We speculate on the Beyond, hoping it will not be the conventional Heaven, with harps and crowns.
We long for a sheltered nook, near the River of Life, where we and Little Blossom can resume the life so happily begun here, going over to the Happy Hunting Grounds to get Bruno, and to the Cat Heaven for Rebecca and Catsie.
Then, our family circle complete, we would settle down to an eternity of Home.
Can Heaven itself offer anything sweeter than home,—the wedded home, where love abides!