It is strange that Eva, with those deep, earnest, quiet eyes, which seemed to look about so little, always saw before any of us what every one wanted. Darling child! she will remember us, then, and our little cares. And she will have some eye-water to make, which will be much better for her than reading all day in that melancholy "Theologia Teutsch."
But are we to call our Eva, Ave? She gave these lines of the hymn in her own writing to Christopher, to bring to me. She often used to sing it, and has explained the words to me:—
"Ave, maris stella
Dei mater alma
Atque semper virgo
Felix cœli porta.
Sumens illud Ave
Gabrielis ore
Funda nos in pace
Mutans nomen Evœ."
It is not an uncommon name, I know, with nuns.
Well, dearly as I loved the old name, I cannot complain of the change. Sister Ave will be as dear to me as Cousin Eva, only a little bit further off, and nearer heaven.
Her living so near heaven, while she was with us, never seemed to make her further off, but nearer to us all.
Now, however, it cannot, of course, be the same.
Our grandmother remains steadfast to the baptismal name.
"Receiving that Ave from the lips of Gabriel, the blessed Mother transformed the name of our mother Eva! And now our child Eva is on her way to become Saint Ave,—God's angel Ave in heaven!"