To his bewilderment he found Barbara at his mother’s bedside
Barbara was dismayed by Erskine’s absence and his mother’s look of suffering and extreme weakness, and the touch of her cold fingers. There was no way of reaching her son, she said—he did not know of her illness. Barbara told her of Erskine’s giving her his inheritance, and that she had come to return it. Meanwhile Erskine, haunted by his mother’s sad face, had turned homeward. To his bewilderment, he found Barbara at his mother’s bedside. A glance at their faces told him that death was near. His mother held out her hand to him while still holding Barbara’s. As in a dream, he bent over to kiss her, and with a last effort she joined their hands, clasping both. A great peace transformed her face as she slowly looked at Barbara and then up at Erskine. With a sigh her head sank lower, and her lovely dimming eyes passed into the final dark.
Two days later they were married. The woodsmen, old friends of Erskine’s, were awed by Barbara’s daintiness, and there were none of the rude jests they usually flung back and forth. With hearty handshakes they said good-by and disappeared into the mighty forest. In the silence that fell, Erskine spoke of the life before them, of its hardships and dangers, and then of the safety and comfort of Virginia. Barbara smiled:
“You choose the wilderness, and your choice is mine. We will leave the same choice....” She flushed suddenly and bent her head.
“To those who come after us,” finished Erskine.
The End.