As Miss Mewlstone paused a moment to wipe the tears that were flowing over her old cheeks, Phillis's voice came to her relief.
"Oh, can you doubt it?" she said, in much agitation. "Dear Mrs. Cheyne, can you have an instant's doubt? Do you think the dead carry all these paltry earthly feelings into the bright place yonder? Forgive you--oh, there is no need of forgiveness there; he will only be loving you,--he and the children too."
"God bless you!" whispered Miss Mewlstone. "Hush, that is enough! Go, my dear, go, and I will come to you presently. Magdalene, put your poor head down here: I have thought of something that will do you good." She waved Phillis away almost impatiently, and laid the poor sufferer's head on her bosom, shielding it from the flashes that darted through the room. Phillis could see her bending over her, and her voice was as tender as though she were soothing a sick infant.
Phillis was trembling with agitation as she stole down the dark corridor. Never in her happy young life had she witnessed or imagined such a scene. The wild words, the half-maddened gestures, the look of agony stamped on the pale, almost distorted features, would haunt her for many a day. Oh, how the poor soul must have suffered before she lost self-control and balance like this!
It was not the death of her children that had so utterly unnerved her. It must have been that bitter parting with her husband, and the remembrance of angry words never to be atoned for in this life, that was cankering the root of her peace, and that brought about these moods of despair.
"And to be wroth with one we love Doth work like madness on the brain,"--
as she took refuge in the dim drawing-room. Here, at least, there were signs of human life and occupation. A little tea-table had been set in one window, though the tea was cold. The greyhounds came and laid their slender noses on her gown, and one small Italian one coiled himself up on her lap. Miss Mewlstone's work-basket stood open, and a tortoise shell kitten had helped itself to a ball of wool and was busily unwinding it. The dogs were evidently frightened at the storm, for they all gathered round Phillis, shivering and whining, as though missing their mistress; and she had much ado to comfort them, though she loved animals and understood their dumb language better than most people.