Parting with the Dead and Parting with the Living

Softly the morning broke and the raindrops glittered like diamonds
in the rising sun, whose rays fell mockingly upon desolate
Sunnybank, where the howling of the blacks mingled with the sobs
of those more nearly bereaved. Very troublesome had the beautiful
departed been in life; none knew how troublesome one-half so well
as Arthur, and yet of all the weeping band who gathered around her
bed, none mourned her more truly than did he who had been her
husband in name for eleven years. Eleven years! How short they
seemed, looked back upon, and how much sorrow they had brought
him. But this was all forgotten, and in his heart there was naught
save tender love for the little maiden now forever at rest.

All the day he sat by her, and both Edith and Victor felt that it
was not the mere semblance of grief he wore, while others of the
household, who knew nothing of his past in connection with Edith,
said to each other, "It is strange he should love her so well when
she was so much care to him."

They did not know it was this very care for her; this bearing with
her which made her so dear to him, and as the mother longs for and
wishes back the unfortunate but beloved child which made her life
so wearisome so Arthur mourned and wept for Nina, thanking God one
moment that her poor, pain-worn head was at rest, and again
murmuring to himself, "I would that I had her back again."