But he got up suddenly.
“I get the heartache to think of it all,” he said.
She rose, too, laying her hand on his shoulder.
“Ah, Thurso, it will come back,” she said—“it will come back and be better than it ever was.”
He looked at her with a sudden face of gloom.
“And you?” he asked. “And Catherine? How can she forget? It is absurd to say that things can be the same as before. Not God can put the clock back and say it is yesterday.”
“No, dear; but the sun will rise on a to-morrow that will be ever so bright. Joy comes in the morning.”
The bitter mood was coming over him again.
“Ah! a phrase,” he said.
“Yes; but a true one,” she answered.