As I sat,thinking how peacefully the hands lay,clasped together still,how sweet was the expression of the close mouth,and what a strange shadowy likeness the whole face bore to Muriel's little face,which I had seen resting in the same deep rest on the same pillow;some one touched me.It was Mrs.Halifax.
How she came I do not know;nor how she had managed to steal out from among her children.Nor how she,who had not walked for weeks,had found her way up hither,in the dark,all alone.Nor what strength,almost more than mortal,helped her to stand there,as she did stand,upright and calm--gazing--gazing as I had done.
"It is very like him;don't you think so,Phineas?"The voice low and soft,unbroken by any sob."He once told me,in case of--this,he would rather I did not come and look at him;but I can,you see."I gave her my place,and she sat down by the bed.It might have been ten minutes or more that she and I remained thus,without exchanging a word.
"I think I hear some one at the door.Brother,will you call in the children?"Guy,altogether overcome,knelt down beside his mother,and besought her to let him take her home.
"Presently--presently,my son.You are very good to me;but--your father.Children,come in and look at your father."They all gathered round her--weeping;but she spoke without single tear.
"I was a girl,younger than any of you,when first I met your father.
Next month we shall have been married thirty-three years.Thirty-three years."
Her eyes grew dreamy,as if fancy had led her back all that space of time;her fingers moved to and fro,mechanically,over her wedding-ring.
"Children,we were so happy,you cannot tell.He was so good;he loved me so.Better than that,he made me good;that was why I loved him.Oh,what his love was to me from the first!strength,hope,peace;comfort and help in trouble,sweetness in prosperity.How my life became happy and complete--how I grew worthier to myself because he had taken me for his own!And what HE was--Children,no one but me ever knew all his goodness,no one but himself ever knew how dearly I loved your father.We were more precious each to each than anything on earth;except His service,who gave us to one another."Her voice dropped all but inaudible;but she roused herself,and made it once more clear and firm,the mother's natural voice.
"Guy,Edwin,all of you,must never forget your father.You must do as he wishes,and live as he lived--in all ways.You must love him,and love one another.Children,you will never do anything that need make you ashamed to meet your father."As they hung round her she kissed them all--her three sons and her daughter,one by one;then,her mind being perhaps led astray by the room we were in,looked feebly round for one more child--remembered--smiled--
"How glad her father will be to have her again--his own little Muriel.""Mother!mother darling!come home,"whispered Guy,almost in a sob.
His mother stooped over him,gave him one kiss more--him her favourite of all her children--and repeated the old phrase:
"Presently,presently!Now go away,all of you;I want to be left for a little,alone with my husband."As we went out,I saw her turn toward the bed--"John,John!"The same tone,almost the same words,with which she had crept up to him years before,the day they were betrothed.Just a low,low murmur,like a tired child creeping to fond protecting arms."John,John!"We closed the door.We all sat on the stairs outside;it might have been for minutes,it might have been for hours.Within or without--no one spoke--nothing stirred.
At last Guy softly went in.
She was still in the same place by the bed-side,but half lying on the bed,as I had seen her turn when I was shutting the door.Her arm was round her husband's neck;her face,pressed inwards to the pillow,was nestled close to his hair.They might have been asleep--both of them.
One of her children called her,but she neither answered nor stirred.
Guy lifted her up,very tenderly;his mother,who had no stay left but him--his mother--a widow--No,thank God!she was not a widow now.
End