"
"You must not think of it," exclaimed he. "Leave it to me. It is
sure to unnerve you."
"I must think of it. I shall have self-control enough in a minute
to do it calmly--to speak hopefully. For only think," continued
she, smiling through the tears that would gather in her eyes,
"what a comfort the remembrance of the last few words may be to
the poor fellow, if----" The words were choked, but she smiled
bravely on. "No!" said she, "that must be done; but perhaps you
will spare me one thing--will you tell Aunt Faith? I suppose I am
very weak, but, knowing that I must go, and not knowing what may
be the end, I feel as if I could not bear to resist her
entreaties just at last. Will you tell her, sir, while I go to
Leonard?"
Silently he consented, and the two rose up and came forth, calm
and serene. And calmly and gently did Ruth tell her boy of her
purpose; not daring even to use any unaccustomed tenderness of
voice or gesture, lest, by so doing, she should alarm him
unnecessarily as to the result. She spoke hopefully, and bade him
be of good courage; and he caught her bravery, though his, poor
boy, had root rather in his ignorance of the actual imminent
danger than in her deep faith. When he had gone down, Ruth began
to arrange her dress. When she came downstairs she went into the
old familiar garden and gathered a nosegay of the last lingering
autumn flowers--a few roses and the like.
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