The best stories of Sarah Orne Jewett, Volume 2 (of 2)Jewett, Sarah Orne
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The best stories of Sarah Orne Jewett, Volume 2 (of 2)
Jewett, Sarah Orne
American fiction -- 19th century; Short stories, American
“Perhaps we might give a look upstairs now,” whispered Mrs. Crowe, as if
she hoped to hear some reason against their going just then to the
chamber of death; but Sister Binson rose, with a serious and yet
satisfied countenance, and lifted the small lamp from the table. She was
much more used to watching than Mrs. Crowe, and much less affected by
it. They opened the door into a small entry with a steep stairway; they
climbed the creaking stairs, and entered the cold upper room on tiptoe.
Mrs. Crowe’s heart began to beat very fast as the lamp was put on a high
bureau, and made long, fixed shadows about the walls. She went
hesitatingly toward the solemn shape under its white drapery, and felt a
sense of remonstrance as Sarah Ann gently, but in a business-like way,
turned back the thin sheet.
“Seems to me she looks pleasanter and pleasanter,” whispered Sarah Ann
Binson impulsively, as they gazed at the white face with its wonderful
smile. “To-morrow ’twill all have faded out. I do believe they kind of
wake up a day or two after they die, and it’s then they go.” She
replaced the light covering, and they both turned quickly away; there
was a chill in this upper room.
“’Tis a great thing for anybody to have got through, ain’t it?” said
Mrs. Crowe softly, as she began to go down the stairs on tiptoe. The
warm air from the kitchen beneath met them with a sense of welcome and
shelter.
“I don’ know why it is, but I feel as near again to Tempy down here as I
do up there,” replied Sister Binson. “I feel as if the air was full of
her, kind of. I can sense things, now and then, that she seems to say.
Now I never was one to take up with no nonsense of sperits and such, but
I declare I felt as if she told me just now to put some more wood into
the stove.”
Mrs. Crowe preserved a gloomy silence. She had suspected before this
that her companion was of a weaker and more credulous disposition than
herself. “’Tis a great thing to have got through,” she repeated,
ignoring definitely all that had last been said. “I suppose you know as
well as I that Tempy was one that always feared death. Well, it’s all
put behind her now; she knows what ’tis.” Mrs. Crowe gave a little sigh,
and Sister Binson’s quick sympathies were stirred toward this other old
friend, who also dreaded the great change.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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