As they lowered him in the grave, his father held me close and, in a voice tremulous with tears, he quoted reverently: "And from his fair and unpolluted flesh may violets spring." ... And when the earth thud harshly 'gainst the coffin lid, closing him away forever ... never again to hold him in my arms--never again to feel his cheek on mine.... O, Death! your sting lies buried in the hearts of those who stay behind ... and then to leave him there ... alone ... in the heavy silence of the dead ... so cold ... all unresisting, his roguish laughter hushed ... his lips, once red, now blue and drawn ... the wax-like lids shadowed with heavy fringe ... my Boy ... my Boy ... whose coming we had deplored, whose little life had so entwined itself about my heart as made a part of me--the better part.... Well ... he had not tarried long.... Boy ... _Boy_.... In the overwhelming grief which had come to me, life appeared a void; a vacuous, heavy-footed thing, with moments of suspended thought, a merciful numbness of despair, a sound, a familiar sight, a rush of memory, a freshet of tears, each overlapped the other, so fast they followed. One of the unpardonable and most resented slights to those in affliction is the even tenor with which the world wags on its way, callous and indifferent. One would have it stop, take heed, upheave.... So, when Will announced that it were expedient to rejoin his company almost immediately I felt a sacrilege was about to be committed. His rôle was being played by an understudy, who, after the manner of understudies, was neither prepared nor equal to the emergency which had suddenly confronted him. Will urged me to accompany him, pointing out that to remain in the apartment alone with ever-present reminders of my loss were to nurse my grief and keep the wound always fresh "Unnumbered cords, frail strands full fraught with pain, That join the soul to things of time and sense." The thought of leaving all that held the nearness of his spirit was repugnant to me. I wanted to be alone with my grief. Gradually I came to realize that it was for the best. Experience, too--simple, honest soul--was shaken by the suddenness and swiftness of our loss. I decided to send her to her home for a rest and change of scene. After all, what did it matter where I went?... Boy was not there....