ENPages
p. 176
utterly unable to realize my loss. Anne and Mary Emma came with Albert about ten o'clock, and just about that time Stan reached Brooklyn whither he had gone to bear the sad news to Harriet __ We retired late __ I slept from very weariness, and as if in mockery my dreams were what they seldom are at any other time -- of gayety and mirth and I would start from my slumber horrified at the thought: __ in every one Natty appeared as he was wont to do in his days of health and gladness, with the sparkle of joy in his eyes, and the flash of wit, and the kiss of affection on his dewy lips. How dreadful it was to awake, and feel how different was the reality. With the dawn the sobs that I could not restrain awoke Carrie and Annie who slept with me and we all wept together -- it seemed more than I could bear, and restless with pain I arose and paced the room and hall long before I could think of dressing. How clearly the morning rays brought back the recollection of him -- his was the first voice I used to hear at that hour and it was was his own sweet tones that called me to greet returning day. That voice, that step, it seemed as though I could hear them still, but I knew they would come no more. When at last I dressed I went first to Mother's room, she had not yet arisen but lay with her face buried in the pillow; __ when I spok to her how mournfully patient was the sad face that was turned toward me with sorrow written in every lineament. Father was up and appeared perfectly calm He in whom he had trusted had not forsaken him in the hour of trial. __ 'Twas a stricken family that bowed together that morning at the altar of prayer and every heart was heavy and every eye was dimmed __ our grief was quiet and subdued, but deep and bitter -- it was only
p. 177
when alone that I ventured to give full vent to the uncontrollable anguish that seemed crushing me. Directly after prayers I stole away to Mother's room where near the windows they had laid out the dear remains.
