"
It was nice to hear this. What can be sweeter or less harmful than
praise from one we love? It was nice to sit there with Aunt Agatha's
soft hand in mine, and be petted. It would be long before I should have
a cosy time with her again. It put fresh heart in me somehow; like
Jonathan's taste of honey, "it lightened my eyes," so that when the
final good-bye came, I could smile as I said it, and carry away an
impression of Aunt Agatha's smile too, as she stood on the steps, with
Patience behind her, watching until I was out of sight. I am afraid I am
different to most young women of my age--more imaginative, and perhaps a
little morbid. Many things in everyday life came to me in the guise of
symbols or signs--a good-bye, for example. A parting even for a short
time always appears to me a faint type of that last solemn parting when
we bid good-bye to temporal things. I suppose kind eyes will watch us
then, kind hands clasp ours; as we start on that long journey they will
bid God help us, as with failing breath and, perhaps, some natural
longings for the friends we love, we go out into the great unknown,
waiting until a Diviner Guide take us by the hand.
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