"Well, Christ be with you, my dear," said the husband to the elderly lady who was standing with him near the door: "she has such confidence in you; you know how to talk with her; go and speak with her a little while, my darling, please go!"
He was about to open the door for her; but his cousin held him back, putting her handkerchief several times to her eyes, and shaking her head.
"There, now she will not see that I have been weeping," said she, and, opening the door herself, went to the invalid.
The husband was in the greatest excitement, and seemed quite beside himself. He started to go over to the old mother, but after taking a few steps he turned around, walked the length of the room, and approached the priest.
The priest looked at him, raised his brows toward heaven, and sighed. The thick gray beard also was lifted and fell again.
"My God! my God!" said the husband.
"What can you do?" exclaimed the confessor, sighing and again lifting up his brows and beard, and letting them drop.
"And the old mother there!" exclaimed the husband, almost in despair. "She will not be able to endure it. You see, she loved her so, she loved her so, that she.... I don't know. You might try, holy father,[92] to calm her a little, and persuade her to go away."
The confessor arose and went over to the old lady.
"It is true, no one can appreciate a mother's heart," said he, "but God is compassionate."