“Is Death as sad as Life?
Soon we shall know.
It does not seem to me
They find it so
Who die, and going from us
Smile as they go.”
Trefoil.
FOR some weeks Mrs. Methvyn seemed to gain ground, and gradually, very gradually, Cicely’s fears abated. She began to think it possible, or more than possible, that her mother had unconsciously exaggerated her own danger; and that after all, many years of life and, comparatively speaking, health, might be before her. And to this opinion her mother’s greatly improved spirits seemed to lend a strong colour of probability. The truth was, that Mrs. Methvyn felt infinitely happier now that Cicely knew the worst; for it had been the terror of breaking to her child these fresh tidings of impending woe, far more than any personal shrinking from death, that had weighed down the poor mother’s spirit so heavily. But of this explanation of the favourable change, Cicely was happily ignorant.
“Mamma must be feeling much better,” she said to herself. “I know her so well; she could not hide from me if she felt worse.”
About this time, too, there came good news from the far-away sister in India; news which cheered Mrs. Methvyn greatly. Amiel wrote that there was a prospect of her husband’s returning home much sooner than had at first been expected.
“In two years from now, we may have her back again mother,” said Cicely brightly. “Two years!—that is a short time compared to five.”
Mrs. Methvyn smiled and agreed with her, and in her heart prayed that she might live to see the end of the two years. “For then,” she thought, “my darling would not be left alone in the world. Amiel and she would be together.”
But Cicely knew nothing of that unspoken prayer, and her mother’s evident rejoicing at Lady Forrester’s news, seemed to her a distinct confirmation of her increasing hopes.
“Mamma would not be so delighted at the thought of Amy’s coming home sooner, if she did not feel stronger,” she thought.
So it came to pass that the terrible cloud cleared off a little, and over Cicely’s quiet, somewhat monotonous life, a faint tremulous sunlight began again softly to shine.