Lona had herself grown a good deal, but did not seem aware of it:
she had always been, as she still was, the tallest! Her hair was
much longer, and she was become almost a woman, but not one beauty of
childhood had she outgrown. When first we met after our long separation,
she laid down her infant, put her arms round my neck, and clung to me
silent, her face glowing with gladness: the child whimpered; she
sprang to him, and had him in her bosom instantly. To see her with
any thoughtless, obstinate, or irritable little one, was to think of
a tender grandmother. I seemed to have known her for ages--for
always--from before time began! I hardly remembered my mother, but in my
mind’s eye she now looked like Lona; and if I imagined sister or child,
invariably she had the face of Lona! My every imagination flew to her;
she was my heart’s wife! She hardly ever sought me, but was almost
always within sound of my voice. What I did or thought, I referred
constantly to her, and rejoiced to believe that, while doing her work in
absolute independence, she was most at home by my side. Never for me did
she neglect the smallest child, and my love only quickened my sense
of duty. To love her and to do my duty, seemed, not indeed one, but
inseparable. She might suggest something I should do; she might ask me
what she ought to do; but she never seemed to suppose that I, any more
than she, would like to do, or could care about anything except what
must be done. Her love overflowed upon me--not in caresses, but in a
closeness of recognition which I can compare to nothing but the devotion
of a divine animal.
I never told her anything about her mother.
The wood was full of birds, the splendour of whose plumage, while it
took nothing from their song, seemed almost to make up for the lack of
flowers--which, apparently, could not grow without water. Their glorious
feathers being everywhere about in the forest, it came into my heart to
make from them a garment for Lona. While I gathered, and bound them in
overlapping rows, she watched me with evident appreciation of my choice
and arrangement, never asking what I was fashioning, but evidently
waiting expectant the result of my work. In a week or two it was
finished--a long loose mantle, to fasten at the throat and waist, with
openings for the arms.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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