Elfie broke down and wept convulsively for some moments before she could resume her story.
—“The blood began to spout like a fountain from a wound in his chest. And Justin said, ‘You are hurt.’ And he answered ‘Am I? I didn’t know.’ And with these words on his lips he fell dead beside his dead wife.”
Erminie was weeping; and it was some time before she could speak. When she did, it was to say:
“Perhaps theirs was the best fate that could have befallen them—I mean under the dreadful circumstances.”
“We all thought so. They were buried side by side in an old country churchyard. It spoke well for the tenderness of our poor soldiers that, tired as they were, they were willing to march three miles to lay the poor woman’s remains in consecrated ground; and they laid her husband’s body beside her.”
“May they rest in peace!” said Erminie, solemnly.
“Amen,” breathed Elfie.
The two girls fell into a thoughtful silence until Erminie arose to ring the bell for Catherine to remove the tea service.
And then, as it was twelve o’clock, the friends kissed each other good night, and Elfie went to her own old room that Catherine had prepared for her.