Miriam Monfort - A Novel by Catherine A. Warfield
page 50 of 567 (08%)
page 50 of 567 (08%)
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Evelyn Erie accompanied my father to the grave as one of the chief
mourners, and at my entreaty Mrs. Austin laid my little sister on the bed by my side, and I was soothed and strengthened by the sight of her baby loveliness as nothing else could have soothed and strengthened me. Then, solemnly and in my own heart, I renewed the promise I had made the dead, and as far as in me lay have I kept it, Mabel, through thy life and mine! I roused from an uneasy sleep an hour later, to find George Gaston at my side. "I have brought you this, Miriam," he said, "because I thought it might help you to bear up. It is a little book my mother loved; perhaps you can read it and understand it when you are older even if you cannot now. See, there is a cross on the back, and such a pretty picture of Jesus in the front. It is for you to _keep_ forever, Miriam. It is called Keble's 'Christian Year.'" "Thank you, George," and I kissed him, murmuring, "But I do not think I shall ever read any more," tearfully. He, too, begged to see the baby for all recompense--his darling as well as mine thenceforth; and I recall to this hour the lovely face of the boy, with all his clustering, nut-brown curls damp with the clammy perspiration incident to his debility, bending above the tiny infant as it lay in sweet repose, with words of pity and tenderness, and tearful, steadfast eyes that seemed filled with almost angelic solicitude and solemn blessing. |
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