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How do mothers know?
"Jacob!" she cried, and, pushing past him, had me in her embrace.
That was a happy tea-table. If mother's tears fell as she told of
my brothers, the sting was taken out of her grief. Perhaps it was
never there. To her there is no death of her dear ones, but rejoicing
in the midst of human sorrow that they have gone home where she
shall find them again. If ever a doubt had arisen in my mind of that
home, how could it linger? How could I betray my mother's faith,
or question it?
Perfectly happy were we; but when the tea-things were removed and
I began to look restlessly at my watch and talk of an errand I must
go, a shadow of anxiety came into my father's eyes. Mother looked
at me with mute appeal. They were still as far from the truth as
ever. A wild notion that I had come for some other man's daughter
had entered their minds, or else, God help me, that I had lost
mine. I kissed mother and quieted her fears.
"I will tell you when I come back;" and when she would have sent
my brothers with me: "No! this walk I must take alone.


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