Vashti; Or, Until Death Us Do PartEvans, Augusta J. (Augusta Jane)
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Vashti; Or, Until Death Us Do Part
Evans, Augusta J. (Augusta Jane)
American fiction -- 19th century
"Don't I? Speak for yourself, Robert. I have heard her laugh twice,
but it was when she was asleep, and it was an uncanny, bitter
sound,--about as welcome to my ears as her death-rattle. Last night
she did not close her eyes,--did not even undress; and the hall clock
was striking three this morning when I heard her open the piano and
play one of those dismal, frantic, wailing things she calls 'fugues,'
that make the hair rise on my head and every inch of my flesh creep as
if a stranger were treading on my grave. When she was a baby, cutting
her eye-teeth, she had a spasm; and seeing her straighten herself out
and roll back her eyes till only the white balls showed, I took it for
granted she was about to die, and, holding her in my arms, I fell on
my knees and prayed that she might be spared. Well, now, Robert, I am
sorry I put up that petition, for the Lord knew best; and it would
have been a crowning mercy if he had paid no attention to my
half-crazy pleadings and taken her home then. What meddling fools we
all are! I thought, at that time, it would break my heart to shroud
her sweet little body; but ah! I would rather have laid my precious
baby in her coffin, with violets under her fingers, than live to see
that desperate, unearthly look, come and house itself in her great,
solemn, hungry, tormenting eyes, that were once as full of sparkles
and merriment as the sky is of stars on a clear, frosty night. My son,
we never know what is good for us; for, many times, when we clamor for
bread we break our teeth on it; and then, again, when we rage and howl
because we think the Lord has dealt out scorpions to us, they prove
better than the fish we craved. So, after all, I conclude Christ
understood the whole matter when he enjoined upon us to say, 'Thy will
be done.'"
The old nurse wiped her eyes with the corner of her black silk apron,
and, leaning against the trunk of a tree, crossed her arms comfortably
over her broad and ample chest, while Robert busied himself in
repotting some choice carnations.
"But, mother, do you really think she will be satisfied to stay here,
after travelling so long up and down in the world?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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