"Yes—yes," she murmured, and the ready tears sprang to her eyes.
"We mourned for our dear boy together," he went on slowly, "and groped our way hand in hand through the darkness. How unhappy we were three years ago! Even now it is painful to look back on those days, but, thank God! time and His grace have helped us, and we no longer suffer."
"I am not so sure of that," returned Elizabeth in a low voice; but he seemed not to hear her.
"You have been very faithful, Elizabeth. If you had been David's widow you could not have mourned for him more deeply; but, as David's father, I would bid you mourn no more."
She stared at him with parted lips, but the words would not come.
"Why should you spoil your life, Elizabeth? You are only thirty-five, and please God there are many, many years before you. Why is your heart to be empty and your arms unfilled because our precious boy is in paradise? Do you know, my dear, we often spoke of this—he and I. Thank God, there were no secrets between us, and he told me more than once that the thought of your future was always on his mind."
Elizabeth bowed her head on her hands. She was weeping now, though the tears came very quietly. "If he had only talked to me!" she murmured.
"He tried to do so more than once," returned Mr. Carlyon, "but each time you stopped him. Would you like me to tell you what he said as well as I can remember his words?" She nodded, but her face was still hidden.
"It was at Ventnor, and very near the end, and he was talking about you—living or dying you were his one thought. 'I know how she will grieve,' he said to me, 'but, father, you must not let her grieve too long. I think it would trouble me even in paradise—if such a thing could be—if I thought I had spoilt her life. Elizabeth is made for happiness—she must not waste her sweetness.' And then—shall I go on?" but all the same he did not wait for consent—"it was then that David told me something that I had guessed before—that some one else loved you, and loved you dearly. I am right, am I not, Elizabeth?" No answer, but he could see how her hands clutched each other, as though in sudden agitation.
"'I was beforehand, and he had no chance,' David went on, 'but he is my superior in everything'—he was always so humble in his own estimation, dear fellow. 'Father, Malcolm Herrick worships the ground she walks on. One day he must have his reward.'"