“Dear, do you remember our father, and how he died? Well, it may be that the end will come to me as it came to him. That is what Dr Everett thinks, and Dr Justin. They cannot tell me when. I may live for years—but, there, I may not. Is it cruel to tell you? But afterwards you would grieve not to have known. And you are a woman now, my darling, and you know that our life is not given just to take our pleasure in, but that the world is meant to be a place of discipline and of work for our fellow-creatures and for the Lord.”
Eunice paused a moment.
“I hoped to work too, and at first I murmured, but I am quite content now, as you will be by-and-by. And you will never forget me, in the happy life which I hope—which I believe lies before you.”
Fidelia put up her hands with a cry. “Hush!” she cried. “I cannot bear it; I cannot believe it. Oh, Eunice, how can you say it, smiling like that, when you know that I have no one in the world but you?”
“Does it seem so to you, dear? You have no other sister; but so many love you—and—you have our Lord and Saviour, whom you love, and whom you seek to serve; and you will not forget me. I shall be something in your life always, and to your children; and, dear, we will not speak any more—I am very tired.”
Fidelia rose without a word. She made her sister lie down, and brought her water to drink, and bathed her face; and then Mrs Stone’s step was heard on the stairs, and Eunice said—
“Go away for a little while. Go out for a walk through the woods, and think it all over, and ask our Father to give you a little glimpse of all the blessing He intends to give you through your sorrow. My darling, I have gone through the suffering. Yes, I know that parting is not so hard for the one who goes. But it is all as good and right as God can make it for His children, and you will see it so in a little while.”
“Oh, Eunice, I am not good! You do not know—”
“But He knows, dear. Tell it all to Him, who loves you even better than I love you.”
There was no time for more, and Fidelia went out at one door as Mrs Stone came in at the other. She was bewildered and helpless for the moment. Her first impulse was to throw herself on the bed in an utter abandonment of sorrow, and, alas! of rebellion, under the hand that touched her. But Eunice had said—“Go out into the woods,” and she must go. So she rose and bathed her face, and, wrapping herself in her shawl, went out through the garden to the fields, and then to the woods, walking rapidly.