"Where's yo'r father?" asked she.
"I guess he's at his Union! he's there most evenings."
Alice shook her head; but whether it were that she did not hear, or
that she did not quite approve of what she heard, Mary could not
make out. She sat silently watching Alice, and regretting over her
dimmed and veiled eyes, formerly so bright and speaking. As if
Alice understood by some other sense what was passing in Mary's
mind, she turned suddenly round, and answered Mary's thought.
"Yo're mourning for me, my dear? and there's no need, Mary. I'm as
happy as a child. I sometimes think I am a child, whom the Lord is
hushabying to my long sleep. For when I were a nurse-girl, my
missis always telled me to speak very soft and low, and to darken
the room that her little one might go to sleep; and now all noises
are hushed and still to me, and the bonny earth seems dim and dark,
and I know it's my Father lulling me away to my long sleep. I'm
very well content; and yo mustn't fret for me. I've had well-nigh
every blessing in life I could desire.
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