She clenched her hands, and pressed her face down on the cushion, struggling with the sobs that rose in her throat. Alas! it did not comfort her to think of a disembodied spirit, however perfect, when she was longing for her own living husband. She loved his faults as well as his virtues; she loved him wholly and completely—as he was: the accent with which he spoke, the very look of the brown hands toil-roughened. In the mortal agony of that parting, visions of heaven would not support her womanhood. "God have mercy on us, have mercy on us!" cried Margaret. "Have mercy, Thou who hast made us what we are! who hast given us souls and bodies both."
She must not fail him in any case; that thought braced her again. If the worst should happen, she must be by him. Could she bear to see it? Meg asked herself, and found the answer clear enough. Yes, she both could and would—and she would have no tears then.
"But oh, if it might be that I might bear it all!" she cried in her heart, with the cry which is old as love itself.
"Lord, let the pain be mine—if only my darling may go free!" Deepest, most fervent prayer of all humanity!—prayer that seems as if it must pierce the veil and force an answer, that is born of our holiest instincts, and has in it the sacrifice that is in motherhood;—prayer that how many women's lips have prayed since the beginning of the world!
"Mine be the pain! Ay; and the sin and the shame too," we cry, knowing that the cry is futile; for who shall deliver his brother? Surely love has been crucified since love first was!
"Ah, it is no wonder, no wonder that God died upon a cross," thought Meg; "if He loves as we love, where else could our God be?"
"If you ask my opinion, I should say that you had better put up a triangle," said a decided voice at the far end of the church. The vestry door slammed, and there was a sound of footsteps on the stairs—quick brisk footsteps—treading over the "Hic Jacets".
"Mr. Muller says that a cross is popish; and you think the commandments Low Church, don't you? or is it old-fashioned? Well, try a triangle. It won't mean anything. Now, that's an advantage to start with; you can't quarrel so much over a purely secular symbol."
"Now, Mr. Sauls!" (a giggle), "if you say such things, I declare we'll set you to work as a punishment. Isn't Mr. Sauls too bad, Ethel? Oh, there comes Mr. Simkyns at last. Please light the candles, Mr. Simkyns."