"I trust they will appreciate your kindness; Molly will, I am sure," Arthur said as he went away.
As the door closed on him, Elsie glided to the window and stood in a pensive attitude gazing out upon that lowly mound, only faintly discernible now in the gathering darkness, for night was closing in early by reason of the heavy clouds that obscured the sky.
A yearning importunate cry was going up from her almost breaking heart. "My husband, oh my husband, how can I live without you! Oh to hear once more the sound of your voice, to feel once again the clasp of your arm, the touch of your hand!"
A sense of utter loneliness was upon her.
But in another moment she felt herself enfolded in a strong yet tender embrace, a gentle caressing hand smoothing her hair.
"My darling, my precious one, my own beloved child!" murmured her father's voice in its most endearing accents, as he drew her head to a resting place on his breast.
She let it lie there, her tears falling fast.
"I fear this going away is to be too great a trial to you," he said.
"No, papa, but I am very weak. Forgive my selfish indulgence of my sorrow."
"My darling, I can sympathize in it, at least to some extent. I remember even yet the anguish of the first months of my mourning for your mother."