Oh, how I wished they would go to bed!
It was now ten o'clock, and I felt tired and restless. When Ernest is out late I usually lie on the sofa and wait for him, and so am bright and fresh when he comes in. But now I had to sit up, and there was no knowing for how long. I poked at the fire and knocked down the shovel and tongs, now I leaned back in my chair, and now I leaned forward, and then I listened for his step. At last he came.
"What, are you not all gone to bed?" he asked.
As if I could go to bed when I had scarcely seen him a moment since his return!
I explained why we waited, and then we had prayer and escorted our guests to their rooms. When we got back to the parlor I was thankful to rest my tired soul in Ernest's arms, and to hear what little he had to tell about his mother's last hours.
"You must love me more than ever, now," he said, "for I have lost my best friend."
"Yes," I said, "I will." As if that were possible! All the time we were talking I heard the greatest racket overhead, but he did not seem to notice it. I found, this morning, that Martha, or her father, or both together, had changed the positions of article of furniture in the room making it look a fright.