The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 18, No. 109, November, 1866: A Magazine of Literature, Science, Art, and PoliticsVarious
General
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 18, No. 109, November, 1866: A Magazine of Literature, Science, Art, and Politics
Various
American periodicals
Smiling, she shook her head at me; and that was all that passed. She was
as cheerful as I tried to be. With regard to the other world, she seemed
to have attained unto the perfect love that casteth out fear; and I
believe her only regret in leaving this lower one for it was that she
could not take me with her. In fact, throughout her illness, her freedom
from anxiety about its symptoms--not absolute, but still in strong
contrast with her previous tendencies--appeared to her physician, as he
acknowledged to me afterwards, even when he considered the frequent
flattering illusions of the disease, a most discouraging indication as
to the case. But to her it was an infinite mercy; and to me, to have
such glimpses to remember of her already in possession of so much of
that peace which remaineth unto the people of God.
As the dog-days drew on, a change came, though at first a very gentle
one to her, if not to me. She slept more, ate less, grew so thin that
she could no more bear the motion of her little wagon, and begged that
it might be returned, because it tired her so to think of it.
Then word came that our house was advertised to be sold,
unconditionally, at an early day. To move her in that state,--how
dreadful it would be! I did not mean to let her know anything about it
until I must; but Miss Mehitable, always less remarkable for tact than
for good-will, blurted it out before her.
Her brows contracted with a moment's look of pain. "O Katy," she
whispered, "I am sorry! That must make you very anxious";--and then she
went to sleep.
Evidently it did not make her very anxious, as I knew that it would have
done as lately even as two or three months before. What was the remedy?
Approaching death. Well, death was approaching me also, as steadily, if
not so nearly; and, after her example, my thoughts took such a foretaste
of that anodyne that, as I sat and gazed on her unconscious, placid
face, all terrors left me, and I was strengthened to pray, and to
determine to look to the morrow with only so much thought as should
enable me to bring up all my resources of body and mind to meet it as I
ought, and to leave the result, unquestioned, quite in God's hand.
The result was an entire relief to her last earthly care. The appointed
day came. The matter took wind. None of our townspeople appeared, to bid
against my guardian; but enough of them were on the spot "to see fair
play," or, in other words, to advance for him whatever sum he might
stand in need of; and the house was knocked down to him at a price even
below its market value. He paid the mortgagee and George their due by
the next mail, but left my title and Fanny's as it was, not to be
settled till I came of age.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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