Bertha dragged herself to her feet and undid the door. Miss Glover entered, and throwing off all reserve in her overwhelming sympathy, clasped Bertha to her heart.
“Oh, my dear, my dear, it’s utterly dreadful; I’m so sorry for you. I don’t know what to say. I can only pray.”
Bertha sobbed unrestrainedly—not because Edward was dead.
“All you have now is God,” said Miss Glover.
At last Bertha tore herself away and dried her eyes.
“Don’t try and be too brave, Bertha,” compassionately said the Vicar’s sister. “It will do you good to cry. He was such a good, kind man, and he loved you so devotedly.”
Bertha looked at her in silence.
“I must be horribly cruel,” she thought.
“Do you mind if I stay here to-night, dear,” added Miss Glover. “I’ve sent word to Charles.”
“Oh, no, please don’t. If you care for me, Fanny, let me be alone. I don’t want to be unkind, but I can’t bear to see any one.”