She could never have gone about with him
again, and she would have fretted at being left behind. She is happy
now, brownie, and out of pain. No one who really loved her could
wish her back again. Don't grieve so, Huldah dear. You made the
last months of her life happier than any she had known."
"But I ran away and left her, and he beat her and Charlie for it,
and--and--"
"Brownie, dear, if you want to do what would have pleased your aunt,
you will forget all that. She loved him and forgave him everything,
and she longed for others too to forget that he was ever anything but
a kind husband."
Huldah was silent. She understood the feeling. It was what she
wanted everyone to feel with regard to Aunt Emma,--to remember only
what was good of her.
And she had her wish. The little group gathered in the churchyard a
few days later remembered only her suffering and her sorrows, and the
love which had lived through all, and many a pretty bunch of winter
flowers and leaves and berries were laid on her grave by kindly,
pitying hands. In the furthest corner of the little churchyard they
laid her, in a corner where the sun rested, and where a hawthorn
grew, in which a robin sang hopefully while they laid her to rest.
Huldah, standing by the grave-side while the beautiful words of the
Burial Service were being read, thought of those other partings, so
sad, so cruel,--oh, this was better than those, and not so complete.
Pages:
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154