Only I hate--I hate to bother him."
"Then, let us try to muddle on alone."
"No. I am sure he would wish me." She waited, head on hand as she sat at
the table, looking down at, but not seeing the letter she had written for
her mother to copy. "He is such a sad man, mama," she said presently. "He
still grieves, and grieves, and grieves, for his wife."
"But he was kind to you, Deleah?"
"Yes. When he remembered. When he knew I was there. He loved her so much.
Miss Forcus has been telling me how he loved her. She was so beautiful, so
grand in manner and appearance, with such a fine character, so great and
good. There is a lovely monument to her in Cashelthrope churchyard. I went
to look at it this morning, after Miss Forcus had been speaking of her. A
white marble angel with a _heavenly_ face stands above the grave looking
upwards, a lily in her hand. Do you know what I felt, mama. I felt I would
die if I could give her back to him."
"Deleah!"
"I would," Deleah said, quite pale, and with a lip that trembled; "I would
die gladly if that could bring her back to him, and make him happy again."
Mrs. Day looked at her daughter with a rather startled attention, and
Deleah, glancing up, and catching her mother's eye, smiled brightly.
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