Then she gazed down at the child's face and said, "It is hard to leave
her and never once to have heard her voice."

"That is the bitterest cup of all," said Israel.

"I shall not return to her," said Ruth, "but she shall come to me, and
then, perhaps--who knows?--perhaps in the resurrection I shall hear it."

Israel made no answer.

Ruth gazed down at the child again, and said, "My helpless darling! Who
will care for you when I am gone?"

"Rest, rest, and sleep!" said Israel.

"Ah, yes, I know," said Ruth. "How foolish of me! You are her father,
and you love her also. Yet promise me--promise--"

"For love and tending she shall never lack," said Israel. "And now lie
you still, my dearest; lie still and sleep."

She stretched out her hand to him. "Yes, that was what I meant," she
said, and smiled. Then a shadow crossed her face in the gloom. "But when
I am gone," she said, "will Naomi ever know that her mother who is dead
had wronged her?"

"You have never wronged her," said Israel. "Have done, oh, have done!"

"God punished us for our prayer, my husband," said Ruth.