Mrs. Reardon marked the flushed cheek and glittering eyes of the sick man, and said no more.
All went on as usual that day, just as if nothing had happened. The scanty meals were prepared and eaten; and then Mrs. Reardon took out her sewing—she could never bear to be idle a moment—and began to look over and mend some of her husband's clothes, wilfully blinding herself to the fact that he would never wear them again.
As night drew on, Matthew became somewhat restless and feverish, but would keep talking nevertheless.
"What should you say," asked he, "if I were to go away for a while on pilgrimage?"
"That it was a good thing, Matthew, so long as you took your wife and children with you, but not else."
"You must bring them afterwards, Mary. Why, even little Bessie knows the way—Jesus, 'the way, the truth, and the life!' Old Marshall was telling me about it a little while before he went. There was no fear of our getting out of the right path, he said, so long as we kept near to Christ. Nothing could be plainer than the directions he gave. I have them all by heart.
"Nothing to do but to ask for Jesus' sake, and knock in Jesus' name, and straightway the golden gates will be opened to let us in. No rent to pay in those heavenly mansions, wife; no more death, neither sorrow nor crying; neither shall there be any more pain. Read what it says about it, Polly, at the end of the book; or, perhaps, mother will read it. I don't seem able to wait while you spell out those words!"
Mrs. Reardon took the Bible, and read as well as she could for tears. It was a long time since she had opened that holy book, but she determined that it should never be so long again; and that, if God would only spare her husband, they would read it together every day, and begin, as he had said, "a new life."
Poor Matthew! The spirit was willing, but the flesh was weak; and while she still read to him of the heavenly Jerusalem, he fell into a sweet sleep, and dreamed that he was already there.
After a time, Mrs. Reardon closed the book, and went on patching and mending with a sad and touching diligence, while the children whispered together as of old.