‘At times there was, but in general there was only languor. She used to lie by the window, looking so smiling and tranquil, that it was hard to believe how much she had gone through; and so peaceful, that we could not dare to wish to bring her back to care and turmoil. The last time she was able to talk to me, she showed me the cross still round her neck, and said she should like to think it would be as much comfort to any one else as it had been to her. I did not see her again till I was called in for her last look on anything earthly, when the suffering was passed, and there was peaceful sinking.’
Violet was crying too much for words, until at last she managed to say, ‘How could you—what could you do?’
‘My illness was the best thing that could happen to me.’
‘How sorry you must have been to get well.’
He replied,
‘Her wings were grown,
To heaven she’s flown,
‘Cause I had none I’m left.’
‘Those lines haunted me when I found myself reviving to the weary useless life I spend here.’
‘O how can you call it so?’ cried Violet. ‘How could Arthur and I do without you?’
There was a sound up-stairs, and she started to the door, ran up, but came down in a few moments. ‘He is awake and better,’ she said. ‘I cannot come down again, for Sarah must go to supper. Good night; thank you for what you have told me;’ then, with an earnest look, ‘only I can’t bear you to say your life is useless. You don’t know how we look to you.’
‘Thank you for your kind listening,’ he answered. ‘It has done me a great deal of good; but do not stay,’ as he saw her evidently longing to return to her child, yet lingering in the fear of unkindness to him. ‘I am glad he is better; you and he must both have a good night.’