But when her
sobs began to abate she became aware of his hand resting on her shoulder.
She sat up, wiping her eyes, and turned to him a face sodden with grief.
"You are good to me," she said simply.
"If my goodness were only less futile! Heaven knows what I would give to
ward off trouble from you. But I can't, nor can I bear it for you."
"But it is a help to know you would if you could. He--I think he wanted to
ward off grief from me, but he could not, either. I was often lonely and
sad, even though he was kind to me. And now he has gone. I wish I had told
him how much I appreciated his goodness to me."
"Yes, we all feel that when we have lost some one we love. It is natural to
wish we had been better to them and showed them how much we cared. Let me
tell you about my mother. I was thirteen when she died. It was in summer.
She had not been well for a long time. The boys were going fishing that day
and she asked me to stay at home. I had set my heart on going, and I
thought it was only a fancy of hers. She did not insist on my staying, so I
went, but felt uncomfortable all day.
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