Page:Maud Howe - A Newport Aquarelle.djvu/130

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
122
A NEWPORT AQUARELLE.

miss her. Her mother would grieve a little while, but the other daughters would soon receive the share of affection which the shallow parent had given her. It was a love of offspring only, and had no tie of sympathy to deepen it.

How easy it would be to move a few steps to the edge of the great stone, to lean far over the abyss, holding on by the tree, and at last to let go her grasp and fall through the soft air to the cool black water, then one great pain—and afterwards, rest! There was the terrible thought—if it should not be rest which she should find beneath the dancing foam bubbles.

Was it that thought only which kept her from doing the thing which she had pictured to herself? Was it the doubt which held her back? "Yes," she reasoned, "only that. Were we but sure of what awaits us on the other side, how many of us would remain upon the hither bank of the dark river which men call death, and which saints believe leads to life everlasting."