Mrs. Elrington was now almost constantly with them; Amy had begged it as a favour, for she felt she could not do without the kind old lady, who was ever ready with her cheerful voice and pleasant, hopeful words to cheer her mother's drooping spirits.
How fast the days flew by! It was Amy's last evening at home; in a few short hours she would be far away from all those she loved.
A heavy cloud seemed to hang over the little party assembled round the tea table, and scarce a word was spoken.
As the tea things were being removed, Mrs. Elrington went softly out, and the widow, drawing her chair near her daughter's, clasped her hand in hers, and in a low voice spoke long and earnestly words of love and advice, such as only a mother knows how to speak.
Often in after years did Amy call to remembrance the sad, sweet smile, the gentle, earnest voice with which her mother's last words of love were uttered.
Spring by Spring the branches duly Clothe themselves in tender flower; And for her sweet sake as truly All their fruit and fragrance shower: But the stream with careless laughter, Runs in merry beauty by, And it leaves me, yearning after Lorn to weep, and lone to die. In my eyes the syren river Sings and smiles up in my face; But for ever and for ever, Runs from my embrace.
As we shall have occasion to speak of Mrs. Elrington often in these pages, some description of her is necessary, though a very slight one will suffice.
She lived in the large house called the Manor, before described, and had lived there for years in lonely solitude. She was a widow, and although the widow's cap had long ago been laid aside, yet in other respects her dress had altered little since the day she had first worn widow's weeds; it was always black; even the bonnet was of the same sombre hue, the cap, collar, and cuffs alone offering any relief to it. Her features were very handsome, and her figure tall, upright, and stately. Her hair was perfectly snow white, drawn off the high broad forehead, under a simple cap; she was greatly beloved, as also held in some slight awe; her voice was peculiarly soft, and when she spoke a pleasant smile seemed to hover about her face which never failed to gladden the hearts of those whom she addressed; but in general the expression of her features when in repose was sad.