“If it is God’s will,” she answered, with a weariness that pierced him to his heart’s core; but in her soul she knew that apart from him the world would never hold any charm for her again.
“There are some things in life,” she went on, with mournful sweetness, after a moment, “that we cannot understand—this trial of ours is one of them. I remember reading somewhere that
‘Never morning wore
To evening, but some heart did break,’
and if that is so, we are not alone in our sorrow; perhaps all will be well in the end, and we shall live to realize it—let us trust that it may be so. But, Earle, you have a beautiful home, and probably there are long years of useful life before you, but there can be no comfort in a household without a skilful hand to beautify and direct. Do not forget what I say—remember that I even wish it, should the time ever come when you can realize it; and now, Earle,” reaching out her hands with a sob that seemed wrung from her against her will, “good-by—God ever bless and keep you.”
His hands dropped suddenly, and the ring rolled to his feet; he had not taken it—he had seemed to have no power; and she, feeling that she could bear no more, turned as if to leave him.
He had stood like one stunned while she was speaking. He could not seem to realize that she really meant this for her last, long farewell; but, as she turned from him, he cried out suddenly, in a voice of agony:
“Editha! oh, my lost love, do not leave me thus!”
She stopped, her head drooping upon her bosom, her hands hanging listlessly by her side.
He sprang to her, and, forgetting everything but the pain of the moment, he drew her passionately to his breast.