"Was it not done like Martha?" Ruth replied; "And done like Stephen too. For courtesy Bloomed like a flower to grace his daily life. I used to wonder at it--and I now Wonder I did not see where such a flower, Where, and where only, such a flower could find Rooting to flourish in a world like this! He always told me that the heart of Christ Nourished what good in him, or beautiful, I found--or fancied, as he smiled and said. But I--Oh, holden heart!--I did not see. And now it is too late, too late, for him To have known! It may be that he knows it, yea, But now to know it is not wholly such As to have known it then, to have known it then! Alas, there is not any chance of hope Behind us, Rachel; hope is all before. Let us look onward; we in hope were saved, So Stephen used to say, and, 'I go hence In comfort of some hope,' were his last words, Or of his last, to me--concerning me, Spoken with a sad cheerfulness that now Breaks me with such a surge of memory! But this is endless, let it here have end. Come, Rachel, see, the sun rides high, come thou, And I will bring thee to a quiet room, Safe from the sun, where thou shalt rest a while." So Rachel followed Ruth, not ill content To be alone for thought if not for sleep. Her will was not to sleep; but weariness, With youth and health, was stronger, and she slept. Already, when she woke, the sun halfway From his high noon had down the western slope Of sky descended, and she hearkening heard A rumorous noise without upon the ways, The stir of movement, steps of many feet, With sound, muffled, of many voices nigh, That startled her from sweet forgetfulness To sudden sad remembrance of the things That had been, and that were, and were to be. Instinctive up she sprang, for, "Lo," she said, "They gather unto Stephen's funeral; Behooves that I be ready with all speed." Therewith upon her knees she sank and prayed A prayer for Ruth and for Ruth's little ones, Widowed and orphaned by so dear a death, And for herself--and for her brother Saul! Then her heart swelled to a capacious wish, And, anguished in one swift vicarious throe Of great desire for help and grace divine, She embraced the total church of Jesus Christ-- Of such a guide, of such a stay, bereaved! Then Rachel, with the Everlasting Arms Invisibly, nigh visibly, around Her to sustain her steps, came forth, as one That meekly walks leaning on her beloved, And begged of Ruth that she might sister be To her, that day, and thenceforth ever, mourn As sister with her in the eyes of all. "For I am lonely," Rachel said, "O Ruth, As thou art; lonely let us be, we twain, Together, widows both, and mix our tears. For also I am widow, as thou art, Yet not as thou--since me a heavier stroke