And
so it is with them that are hidden from our sight. If they've been
worthy to be heartily loved while alive, they'll not be forgotten
when dead; it's against nature. And we need no more be upbraiding
ourselves for letting in God's rays of light upon our sorrow, and no
more be fearful of forgetting them, because their memory is not
always haunting and taking up our minds, than you need to trouble
yourself about remembering your grandfather's face, or what the
stars were like--you can't forget if you would, what it's such a
pleasure to think about. Don't fear my forgetting Aunt Alice."
"I'm not, Jem; not now, at least; only you seemed so full about
Mary."
"I've kept it down so long, remember. How glad Aunt Alice would
have been to know that I might hope to have her for my wife! that's
to say, if God spares her!"
"She would not have known it, even if you could have told her this
last fortnight--ever since you went away she's been thinking always
that she was a little child at her mother's apron-string. She must
have been a happy little thing; it was such a pleasure to her to
think about those early days, when she lay old and grey on her
deathbed.
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