Christian life -- Fiction; Conduct of life -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
Mrs. Montgomery looked undecided and unsatisfied.
"I'll take the responsibility of this matter on myself; you
must not waken her, absolutely. It would not do at all," said
the captain, poking the fire very energetically; "it would not
do at all; I cannot allow it."
Mrs. Montgomery silently arose and lit a lamp.
"You are not going into Ellen's room?" said the husband.
"I must I must put her things together."
"But you'll not disturb Ellen?" said he, in a tone that
required a promise.
"Not if I can help it."
Twice Mrs. Montgomery stopped before she reached to door of
Ellen's room, for her heart failed her. But she _must_ go on,
and the necessary preparations for the morrow _must_ be made
she knew it; and repeating this to herself, she gently turned
the handle of the door, and pushed it open, and guarding the
light with her hand from Ellen's eyes, she set it where it
would not shine upon her. Having done this, she set herself,
without once glancing at her little daughter, to put all
things in order for her early departure on the following
morning. But it was a bitter piece of work for her. She first
laid out all that Ellen would need to wear; the dark merino,
the new nankeen coat, the white bonnet, the clean frill that
her own hands had done up, the little gloves and shoes, and
all the etceteras, with the thoughtfulness and the carefulness
of love; but it went through and through her heart that it was
the very last time a mother's fingers would ever be busy in
arranging or preparing Ellen's attire; the very last time she
would ever see or touch even the little inanimate things that
belonged to her; and painful as the task was, she was loth to
have it come to an end. It was with a kind of lingering
unwillingness to quit her hold of them, that one thing after
another was stowed carefully and neatly away in the trunk. She
felt it was love's last act; words might indeed a few times
yet come over the ocean on a sheet of paper; but sight, and
hearing, and touch, must all have done henceforth for ever.
Keenly as Mrs. Montgomery felt this, she went on busily with
her work all the while, and when the last thing was safely
packed, shut the trunk and locked, it without allowing herself
to stop and think, and even drew the straps. And then, having
finished all her task, she went to the bedside; she had not
looked that way before.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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