And what had been the good of Sheila's apparent love and kindness? It had not been worth having, it was nothing to be compared with Jem's love for her, the love she had spurned and turned her back upon.
Tormented with these thoughts Meg tossed about too depressed to look again at her surroundings. Then she heard a faint sound coming from the bed next to her own. She turned to listen and look.
An old woman lay gazing at her as she murmured words that arrested Meg's attention.
"And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away."
The voice was very weak, and the owner of it very old, but the patient lay looking at Meg with a pair of sweet calm eyes. The gray hair was brushed smoothly over the forehead, and the whole aspect of the woman spoke of peace and content.
Meg looked away from her to the other occupants of the ward. At the opposite corner lay a woman who constantly burst out into idiotic laughter. No one took any notice of her.
Across the ward was a little group of women chattering. They were all more or less in a state of convalescence, and their voices were loud and coarse. Meg occasionally caught the sound of oaths and foul language. She stopped her ears not to hear.
But the woman lying so still and peaceful by her side seemed quite oblivious of all her sad surroundings. Had she been in a palace she could scarcely have looked more contented. She kept repeating the words of comfort, looking at Meg all the time.
"Why are you so happy?" asked Meg.
The old woman looked dazed for a moment. Then she murmured, "Neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away."