"Dearest mother, that is right! Can papa's spirit hear us? Is he comforted to know that we still love him?"
"I said nothing of love: I spoke of forgiveness. Mind the truth, child,—I said nothing of love! On the threshold of eternity, should he be there to see me enter, will I maintain that."
"Oh, mother! you must have suffered!"
"Oh, child! the human heart can suffer. It can hold more tears than the ocean holds waters. We never know how deep—how wide it is, till misery begins to unbind her clouds, and fill it with rushing blackness."
"Mother, forget."
"Forget!" she said, with the strangest spectre of a laugh. "The North pole will rush to the South, and the headlands of Europe be locked into the bays of Australia, ere I forget."
"Hush, mother! rest!—be at peace!"
And the child lulled the parent, as the parent had erst lulled the child. At last, Mrs. Pryor wept: she then grew calmer. She resumed those tender cares agitation had for a moment suspended. Replacing her daughter on the couch, she smoothed the pillow and spread the sheet. The soft hair whose locks were loosened, she re-arranged, the damp brow she refreshed with a cool fragrant essence.
"Mama, let them bring a candle, that I may see you; and tell my uncle to come into this room by-and-by: I want to hear him say that I am your
