Her husband did not
know the hours of wakeful uncertainty and helplessness and despair
that Mrs. Gray spent, as she lay long into the nights thinking and
thinking, until sometimes it seemed that she would go mad.
Bessie, gentle and sympathetic, was the pillar upon which they all
leaned during those first days after the dreadful tidings came. It was
her presence that made life possible. Like a good angel she moved
about the house, unobtrusively ministering to them, and Mrs. Gray
more than once said,
"I'm not knowin' what we'd do, Bessie, if 'twere not for you."
After a week of silent despondency the father roused himself to some
extent from the lethargy into which he had fallen, and returned to his
trail. The work brought back life and energy, and when, a fortnight
later, he came back, he had resumed somewhat his old bearing and
manner, though not all of the buoyancy. He entered the cabin with the
old greeting--"An' how's my maid been wi'out her daddy?" It made the
others feel better and happier; and he was almost his natural self
again when he left them for another period.
The report of Bob's death did not appear to affect Emily as greatly as
her mother feared it would. She was silent, and took less interest in
her doll, and seemed to be constantly expecting something to occur.
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